One drop of midnight in the dawn of life's pulsating stream Marks her an alien from her kind, a shade amid its gleam; Forevermore her step she bends insular, strange, apart— And none can read the riddle of her wildly warring heart. The stormy current of her blood beats like a mighty sea Against the man-wrought iron bars of her captivity. For refuge, succor, peace and rest, she seeks that humble fold Whose every breath is kindliness, whose hearts are purest gold. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GUNS AS KEYS: AND THE GREAT GATE SWINGS by AMY LOWELL SURFACES AND MASKS; 4 by CLARENCE MAJOR |