LO! where she stands fixed in a saint-like trance, One upward hand, as if she needed rest From rapture, lying softly on her breast! Nor wants her eyeball an ethereal glance; But not the less--nay more--that countenance, While thus illumined, tells of painful strife For a sick heart made weary of this life By love, long crossed with adverse circumstance. --Would She were now as when she hoped to pass At God's appointed hour to them who tread Heaven's sapphire pavement, yet breathed well content, Well pleased, her foot should print earth's common grass, Lived thankful for day's light, for daily bread, For health, and time in obvious duty spent. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ANONYMOUS by JOHN BANISTER TABB IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 7 by ALFRED TENNYSON SONG TOURNAMENT: NEW STYLE by LOUIS UNTERMEYER SABBATH THOUGHTS by GRACE AGUILAR ANGER AND WRATH by WILLIAM BLAKE HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 21 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |