THERE is in her a vague, idyllic grace Intangible as chimes adrift in wind, A grace familiar with the chords that bind Beauty to beauty with the centuries' pace, Yet with the clouded hair about that face Del Sarto might have painted, with the shadows Massed in a background of dim, barren meadows, She seems enthroned in a holy place. But it is sad, sometimes, that she should speak In words that you and I may understand, For when such beauty here is close at hand All else beside its mystery is weak. And I would hear the music when she smiles Float from Lucrezia's altar down the aisles. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EXPLICATION OF AN IMAGINARY TEXT by JAMES GALVIN GOLD COAST CUSTOMS by EDITH SITWELL THE SONG OF THE SMOKE by WILLIAM EDWARD BURGHARDT DU BOIS THE ROAD NOT TAKEN by ROBERT FROST COLUMBUS by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER SONNET: 151 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE AN HYMN OF HEAVENLY LOVE by EDMUND SPENSER SIR RUPERT THE FEARLESS; A LEGEND OF GERMANY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |