You sit so still, with hands demurely crossed. Your eyes are fixed upon the land of dreams, The world of everyday completely lost As softened light from leaded casement streams Across the ebon ripple of your hair. Your tight bodice, made of a stiff brocade, Well suits the carving of your high-backed chair As does your mantle, edged with silver braid. Oh lady, from the land of long ago, At sight of you we let our fancy stray. Forgetting all the sting of present woe We fly in fancy, back to yesterday When you trod measures of a stately dance And life held high adventure and romance. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN: THE FIRST DAY: PAUL REVERE'S RIDE [APRIL 1775] by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE CATARACT OF LODORE by ROBERT SOUTHEY SONG: 2 by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD PSALM 68 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE MARCH BEE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |