YOU might have been as lovely as the dawn, Had household sweetness nurtured you, and arts Domestic, and the strength which love imparts To lowliness, and chastened ardour drawn From vital sap that burgeons in the brawn Around the dreadful arms of Hercules, And shapes the curvature of Dian's knees, And has its course in lilies of the lawn. Even now your flesh is soft and full, defaced Although it be, and bruised. Unblenched your eyes Meet mine, as misinterpreting their call, Then sink, reluctant, forced to recognise That there are men whose look is not unchaste -- O God! the pain! the horror of it all! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NIGHT BY THE RIVER by MUHAMMAD AL-MU'TAMID II THE TOAD by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |