When she sleeps, her soul, I know, Goes a wanderer on the air, Wings where I may never go, Leaves her lying, still and fair, Waiting, empty, laid aside, Like a dress upon a chair. . . . This I know, and yet I know Doubts that will not be denied. For if the soul be not in place, What has laid trouble in her face? And, sits there nothing ware and wise Behind the curtains of her eyes, What is it, in the self's eclipse, Shadows, soft and passingly, About the corners of her lips, The smile that is essential she? And if the spirit be not there, Why is fragrance in the hair? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON TALK OF PEACE AT THIS TIME by ROBERT FROST THE STORY OF THE END OF THE STORY by JAMES GALVIN HOMING BRAVES by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON INEVITABLY (2) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SOMEBODY LOVED ME by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON LIVE AND HELP LIVE by EDWIN MARKHAM SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: IPPOLIT KONOVALOFF by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |