Dead! Found in the desolate street Where the drifting snow had silently piled As if in pity, poor wandering child, To mantle thee in its sheet. Pale e'en as thy covering pure Nor colder its touch than thy marble breast And the heart beneath in a dreamless rest That throbs to the tempest no more. Still fresh in the halo of morn! But love-blighted Innocence thrust away Prone on the gulf of its bitterness lay Aghast, unresisting, forlorn. Alas! For thee, dissolute man, Thy token her tapering finger bears; How the glittering mock of the bauble glares 'Mid beauty so rigid and wan. Couldst thou gaze on thy victim again On the icy calm of her lineaments now, This pallid eclipse of the queenly brow Would smite thy voluptuous brain -- Yet naught but forgiveness there. The dumb lips falter in suppliance meek, While a ringlet stirs on the ivory cheek As if with the breathing of prayer. Ah! Who hath her history known? The bleak world stifles the penitent's prayer; She turns from its withering scorn to die Homeless, unfriended, alone. O thou, in whose sheltering side Sweet refuge still for the lost remains, Cleanse in thy pity her glittering stains, Her shame in thy chastity hide. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WHITE KNIGHT'S SONG by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON LITTLE BROWN BABY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR CHRISTMAS TREES; A CHRISTMAS CIRCULAR LETTER by ROBERT FROST THE LAST POST by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES ART ABOVE NATURE: TO JULIA by ROBERT HERRICK |