A face more vivid than he dreamed who drew Thy portrait in that thrilling tale of old! Dead queen, we see thee still, thy beauty cold As beautiful; thy dauntless heart which knew No fear, -- not even of a king who slew At pleasure; maiden heart which was not sold, Though all the maiden flesh the king's red gold Did buy! The loyal daughter of the Jew, No hour saw thee forget his misery; Thou wert not queen until thy race went free; Yet thoughtful hearts, that ponder slow and deep, Find doubtful reverence at last for thee; Thou heldest thy race too dear, thyself too cheap; Honor no second place for truth can keep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DEBT by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 123 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 7. SUPREME SURRENDER by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI STEAMBOATS, VIADUCTS, AND RAILWAYS by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH SONG ON THE WATER (1) by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |