COMELY and capable one of our race, Posing there in your gown of grace, Plain, yet becoming; Could subtlest breast Ever have guessed What was behind that innocent face, Drumming, drumming! Would that your Causer, ere knoll your knell For this riot of passion, might deign to tell Why, since It made you Sound in the germ, It sent a worm To madden Its handiwork, when It might well Not have assayed you, Not have implanted, to your deep rue, The Clytaemnestra spirit in you, And with purblind vision Sowed a tare In a field so fair, And a thing of symmetry, seemly to view, Brought to derision! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I PAY MY DEBT FOR LAFAYETTE AND ROCHAMBEAU' by EDGAR LEE MASTERS IN 'DESIGNING A CLOAK TO CLOAK HIS DESIGNS' YOU WRESTED FROM OBLIVION by MARIANNE MOORE THE COAT OF FIRE by EDITH SITWELL HENRY MOORE'S STATUE AT LINCOLN CENTER by KAREN SWENSON MY MOTHER, 1930 by KAREN SWENSON |