SHE lifted up her head With the proud incredible poise Of beauty recovered From the Mycenaean tombs. She opened her nostrils With the wild arrogance Of life that knows nothing Except that it is life. Her slender legs Quivered above the soft grass. Her hard hooves Danced among the dandelions. Her great dark eyes Saw all that could be seen. Her large lips Plucked at my coat-sleeve. All the wisdom of the prophets Vanished into laughter As Loreine lifted her small foot And pawed the air. All the learning of the sages Turned to ribald rubrics When that proud head Looked at a passing cloud. And so, amid this godless God-hungry generation, Let us, my friends, take Loreine And worship her. She would demand nothing, Nor would she utter thunders. She is living, and real, And she is beautiful. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONG:SO WHY DOES THIS DEAD CARNATION by HAYDEN CARRUTH EPIGRAM: A BURNT SHIP by JOHN DONNE INTELLECT by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THRENODY by RALPH WALDO EMERSON WINTER WITH THE GULF STREAM by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS MODERN LOVE: 17 by GEORGE MEREDITH SONNETS TO LAURA IN LIFE: 156 by PETRARCH FIRST VOYAGE OF COLUMBUS by JOANNA BAILLIE ON THE DEATH OF SMET-SMET, THE HIPPOTAMUS-GODDESS by RUPERT BROOKE |