ALL white, all light, all beautiful she stands, Love in her eyes, a glory round her brows, Blanched as the lilies chaste in her chaste hands. Even so God's saints in their celestial house. Red only are her lips, ay, red as those Turned by the Queen, that happy day in France, As yet unkissed, to him who made his vows, Victor in fight, to her his soul's romance. Idly she stands in dreams.—Ah, Launcelot, Couldst thou but plead here haply and prevail, Touch her soft cheek, draw tears from her sweet eyes, Open her lips to passionate words unwise, Receive her true kiss 'neath thy coat of mail: In Love's name, I who love, should grudge it not. Ah, beautiful sweet woman, made in vain, Since Launcelot is dead and only I, Alas for this new world of recreant men, Remain in age Love's creed to justify And prove his right to fools who would deny! Heaven's help shall win her, though she long hath been Child of a doubting Age. Or let me die At her dear feet, my Guenevere, my queen. —Ride therefore forth, my soul, on this last quest. Oblivion soon shall fold all in its arms. Love, if she love thee or love not. The loss Is hers, not thine, since each thing else is dross; Not thine, whom Heaven makes whole and no hurt harms, Even that of death, so thou have loved thy best. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOUTH AND AGE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE A BALLAD OF ATHLONE; OR, HOW THEY BROKE DOWN THE BRIDGE by AUBREY THOMAS DE VERE A CONTEMPLATION UPON FLOWERS by HENRY KING (1592-1669) ON MILTON'S PARADISE LOST by ANDREW MARVELL DROUTH WILL BE ENDED by GLADYS NAOMI ARNOLD I CLEANED MY HOUSE TODAY by KATHARINE CANBY BALDERSTON TWELVE SONNETS: 3. THE VALLEY ROSES by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |