Blue-eyed and bright of face, but waning fast Into the stare of virginal decay, I view her as she enters, day by day, As a sweet sunset almost overpast. Kindly and calm, patrician to the last, Superbly falls her gown of sober gray, And on her chignon's elegant array The plainest cap is somehow touched with caste. She talks Beethoven; frowns disapprobation At Balzac's name, sighs it at 'poor George Sands'; Knows that she has exceeding pretty hands; Speaks Latin with a right accentuation; And gives at need (as one who understands) Draught, counsel, diagnosis, exhortation. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I AM NOT YOURS by SARA TEASDALE A SONG ABOUT SINGING by ANNE REEVE ALDRICH ONE PRAYER by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) HERE STOOD A HOUSE by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. A HARD SAYING by EDWARD CARPENTER ON SOME VIOLETS PLANTED IN MY GARDEN BY A FRIEND by ELIZABETH COBBOLD |