IT was what you bore with you, Woman, Not inly were, That throned you from all else human, However fair! It was that strange freshness you carried Into a soul Whereon no thought of yours tarried Two moments at all. And out from his spirit flew death, And bale, and ban, Like the corn-chaff under the breath Of the winnowing-fan. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY SENSES DO NOT DECEIVE ME by MARIANNE MOORE MONNA INNOMINATA, A SONNET OF SONNETS: 8 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI |