She sat, like all the rest of us, at tea. It seemed at first as if she raised her cup Not quite as all the others held theirs up. She smiled: her smile was pitiful to see. And when we rose at last with talk and laughter, And through the many rooms with idle pace, As chance would have it, strolled from place to place -- Then I saw her. She slowly followed after, Bestrained, like one who must be calm and cool Because she soon will sing before a crowd; Upon her happy eyes, without a cloud, The light fell from outside, as on a pool. She followed slowly, hesitating, shy, As if some height or bridge must still be passed, And yet--as if, when that was done, at last She would no longer walk her way, but fly. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GALAHAD IN THE CASTLE OF THE MAIDENS by SARA TEASDALE A HYMN FOR PROCESSION WITH CROSS AND BANNERS by SABINE BARING-GOULD THE WANDERER: 2. IN FRANCE: AUX ITALIENS by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON A PAUSE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SYMPATHY by HENRY DAVID THOREAU BEAUREGARD by CATHERINE ANNE WARFIELD |