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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TO SARAH, by EDMOND ROSTAND Poet's Biography
First Line: In these drab days, alone there never cloys
Last Line: The lips of shakspere on your jeweled fingers.
Subject(s): Courts & Courtiers; Death; Soul; Dead, The
First Line: In these drab days, alone there never cloys
Last Line: The lips of shakspere on your jeweled fingers.
Subject(s): Courts & Courtiers; Death; Soul; Dead, The
In these drab days, alone there never cloys
Your pallid grace, descending a wide stair,
Wreathing a frontlet, holding a lily, sword in air:
Queen of Fair Gestures, Princess of Poise.
In these tame times your flames are mutinous!
You speak verse. You die of love. You are ever fresh.
You hold forth arms of dream, then arms of flesh,
And when Phèdre appears, we are all incestuous.
Avid of suffering, you deepen with the years;
We have seen flowing—for they flow!—your tears:
All the dew of our soul on your cheek lingers.
But you know, Sarah, that at times there stray—
And furtively you feel them as you play—
The lips of Shakspere on your jeweled fingers.
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