WHITE in her snowy stone, and cold, With azure veins and shining arms, Pygmalion doth his bride behold, Rapt on her pure and sculptured charms. Ah! in those half-divine old days Love still worked miracles for men; The gods taught lovers wondrous ways To breathe a soul in marble then. He gazed, he yearned, he vowed, he wept. Some secret witchery touched her breast; And, laughing April tears, she stepped Down to his arms and lay at rest. Dear artist of the storied land! I too have loved a heart of stone. What was thy charm of voice or hand, Thy secret spell, Pygmalion? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A PSALM OF TRAVEL by GEORGE SANTAYANA EASTER HYMN by GEORGE SANTAYANA CITY VIGNETTE: RAIN AT NIGHT by SARA TEASDALE TAM O' SHANTER by ROBERT BURNS AT BETHLEHEM: 3. TO HIS MOTHER by JOHN BANISTER TABB THE WINDOW; OR, THE SONG OF THE WRENS: THE LETTER by ALFRED TENNYSON THE HUSKERS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |