Hair - silver-gray, like streams of stars, Brows - recurved canoes quivered by the ripples blown by pain, Her eyes- mist of tears condensing on the flesh below And her channeled muscles are cluster grapes of sorrow purple in the evening sun nearly ripe for worms. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STANZAS IN MEMORY OF THE AUTHOR OF OBERMANN by MATTHEW ARNOLD A POISON TREE, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE SIMON THE CYRENIAN SPEAKS by COUNTEE CULLEN MY CREED by HOWARD ARNOLD WALTER IF I ONLY WAS THE FELLOW by WILL S. ADKIN A DAY: AN EPISTLE TO JOHN WILKES, OF AYLESBURY, ESQ. by JOHN ARMSTRONG THE OLD CAMP; WRITTEN IN A ROMAN FORTIFICATION IN BAVARIA by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |