WITHOUT surcease of breath Her soul hath slipped its sheath, And walks among us, beautiful, unafraid, So mortal eyes may see How immortality Transcends all beauty that must fail and fade. Colours of air and flame, The glory whence she came, Yet float about her in our dusty sphere. Silence and rapture still Brought from the heavenly hill, Whence she hath travelled to our exile drear. Slight as a lance she is, And tall as Lent lilies, Aspiring like a flame in windless air, Incense and breath of spice, Kept from her Paradise, Haunt her from slender feet to ebon hair. Lingering and lovely voice— Lutes, dulcimers, hautboys— Her voice remembers how the music went, Still holds the rise and fall, The sob ecstatical, Of some most heavenly-sweet wind instrument. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ROBERT OF LINCOLN by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT IN PROGRESS by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SONNETS FOR PICTURES: A VENETIAN PASTORAL (BY GIOGIONE) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE WIDOW'S LAMENT IN SPRINGTIME by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS A SPRING CAROL by ALFRED AUSTIN OLD LADY NECESSITY by BERTON BRALEY FRAGMENT OF OLDE STUFFE by JAMES A. BRILL EPITAPH ON THE RIGHT HONOURABLE SUSAN, COUNTESS OF MONTGOMERY by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |