He bore her to his home 'twixt life and death, By mute connivance of the slumbering streets, Bore her redeemed to a new world of breath And peace divine, belike the Paraclete's. There lay she in his hands for many days Speechless, unasking,—only in her soul The wonder grew at love's mysterious ways Which had outwitted grief and proved her fool. Ay, fool in sooth, unblest by her own will, Yet now by chiding of love's guidance blest, Who, sparing all, of all now found her fill, And lost to love was now of love the guest. Dreaming she lay, with visions in her eyes Of a new world where women all were wise. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPISTLE IN FORM OF A BALLAD TO HIS FRIENDS by FRANCOIS VILLON IMPROMPTU ON CHARLES II (2) by JOHN WILMOT TIPPERARY: 2. AS THE TRANSLATORS WOULD HAVE INTERLINED IT . . . by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE STORM by ANNA A. ARMBRUSTER THE BEACHCOMBER by MILDRED DOSCH BANTA POETIC STUFF by MORRIS GILBERT BISHOP A PRAIRIE MOTHER'S LULLABY by EARL ALONZO BRININSTOOL |