One leaned on velvet cushions like a queen -- To see him pass, the hero of an hour, Whom men called great. She bowed with languid mien, And smiled, and blushed, and knew her beauty's power. One trailed her tinseled garments through the street, And thrust aside the crowd, and found a place So near, the blooded courser's prancing feet Cast sparks of fire upon her painted face. One took the hot-house blossoms from her breast, And tossed them down, as he went riding by, And blushed rose-red to see them fondly pressed To bearded lips, while eye spoke unto eye. One, bold and hardened with her sinful life, Yet shrank and shivered painfully, because His cruel glance cut keener than a knife, The glance of him who made her what she was. One was observed, and lifted up to fame, Because the hero smiled upon her! while One who was shunned and hated, found her shame In basking in the death-light of his smile. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ROBERT OF LINCOLN by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT FROST AT MIDNIGHT by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE UPON THE NIPPLES OF JULIA'S BREAST by ROBERT HERRICK THE BRIDGE OF SIGHS by THOMAS HOOD A VOICE PROPHETIC by WALT WHITMAN ECLOGUE: THE TIMES by WILLIAM BARNES STANZAS ADDRESSED TO SOME FRIEND GOING TO THE SEA-SIDE by BERNARD BARTON |