COME close and see her and hearken. This is she. Stop the ways fast against the stench that nips Your nostril as it nears her. Lo, the lips That between prayer and prayer find time to be Poisonous, the hands holding a cup and key, Key of deep hell, cup whence blood reeks and drips; The loose lewd limbs, the reeling hingeless hips, The scurf that is not skin but leprosy. This haggard harlot grey of face and green With the old hand's cunning mixes her new priest The cup she mixed her Nero, stirred and spiced. She lisps of Mary and Jesus Nazarene With a tongue tuned, and head that bends to the east, Praying. There are who say she is bride of Christ. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: ADDRESSED TO HAYDON (1) by JOHN KEATS PORTRAIT BY A NEIGHBOR by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY THE LESSER BEAUTY by MARGARET STEELE ANDERSON THE STORY OF FIORDISPINA, FR. ORLANDO FURIOSO by LUDOVICO (LODOVICO) ARIOSTO ARCHEANASSA by ASCLEPIADES OF SAMOS WINTER: EAST ANGLIA by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |