All the heavy days are over; Leave the body's coloured pride Underneath the grass and clover, With the feet laid side by side. One with her are mirth and duty, Bear the gold embroidered dress, For she needs not her sad beauty, To the scented oaken press. Hers the kiss of Mother Mary, The long hair is on her face; Still she goes with footsteps wary, Full of earth's old timid grace. With white feet of angels seven Her white feet go glimmering And above the deep of heaven, Flame on flame and wing on wing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEVEN TWILIGHTS: 7 by CONRAD AIKEN SUGGESTED BY THE COVER OF A VOLUME OF KEATS'S POEMS by AMY LOWELL THE HEART'S RETURN by EDWIN MARKHAM DOMESDAY BOOK: MRS. MURRAY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS MY LIGHT WITH YOURS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS QUI S'EXCUSE S'ACCUSE by MARIANNE MOORE HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 10 by EZRA POUND |