With narrow eyes below soft chains, a slave Empties my vases, in the mirror dives, Extends to the secret bed her pure, white hands: Within these walls a modest woman moves Who in my reverie cuts through my vision, Never once endangering abstraction, As by a simple glass the sun is caught Without the apparatus of pure thought. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AGAMEMNON: WELCOME TO AGAMEMNON by AESCHYLUS THE SHIPMAN'S TALE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH PEACE PICTURES by ELIZABETH I. BARNES LINES; TO ONE WHO WISHED TO READ A POEM I HAD WRITTEN by ANNE CHARLOTTE LYNCH BOTTA ANTICLIMAX by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON RHYME FOR REMEMBRANCE OF MAY by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON THOUGHTS ON THE CONSTITUTION OF HUMAN NATURE by JOHN BYROM TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. THE PLOUGHBOY by EDWARD CARPENTER |