So the goddess has slain me for your chance smile and my scarf unfolding as you stopped to it, so she trapped me, for the upward sweep of your arm, as you lifted the veil, was the gesture of a tall girl and your smile was as selfless. Could I have known? nay, spare pity, though I break, crushed under the goddess' hate, though I fall beaten at last, so high have I thrust my glance up into her presence. Do not pity me, spare that, but how I envy you your chance of death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SHADES OF NIGHT by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE DREAMER by SHAEMAS O'SHEEL ANTIQUE JEWELER by FREDERICK HENRY HERBERT ADLER BLOOD ON THE WHEEL by ALEXANDER ANDERSON EN TOUR; A SONG SEQUENCE: 4. FOR FRANCES ANN by ALBERTA BANCROFT |