As flowers at dusk their choicest perfumes hold, Some hearts hoard beauty when the body's old: I see an age-bent woman lead the herd To pasture, with no need of guiding word. While the dull beasts in the tall grasses browse, Inside her soul the earth's enchantments drowse; The needles pause between her wasted hands, For light is always mellow where she stands. No motion marks her life's harmonious dream; It is a part of Nature's quiet theme. Each day renews the uneventful past, Although her spirit nears a change at last. From the grey threshold of her silent home One night, her spirit, kin to evening's shade, Will float away from crevices life made, Like seaweed from a cliff into white foam. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SYMPATHY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TANGENTIAL by LOUIS UNTERMEYER GOOD-BYE MY FANCY! by WALT WHITMAN FELIX OPPORTUNITATE MORTIS by ALFRED AUSTIN THE WAGGONER by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN AUTUMN SUNSET ON THE SIERRA NEVADAS by DOROTHY BOARDMAN SONNET by ETIENNE DE LA BOETIE |