Before that crowd she stood, a flowerlike thing — That curious crowd that came to see her sing (See more than hear, her beauty's fame was such), Unconscious as a child, save for a touch Of happy fear like some wild bird was she, Instinct with light, and fire, and purity; But when she sang, there fell so deep a hush, The listening ear might almost hear a blush! Methinks the very footlights must have felt The wonder and the fragrance where they knelt. Across the years once more I see her stand, The sheet of music trembling in her hand. Suitors she had in plenty; men who flung Their hearts with their bouquets when she had sung; She laugh'd in girlish ignorance, nor guess'd The flattery in the voices that caress'd. But, lest his blossom suffer blight withal, Came jealously the Lover of us all, And wooed her spirit with his subtlest breath — What lad hath kiss'd so many lips as Death! Through blinding tears once more I see her lie Like a pale lily, garnered for the sky! Mayhap one voice was missing in the choir That sings forever round God's feet of fire; Mayhap the Seraphim, leaning low, had caught Her little human echo of God's thought, And wished her thither, till she, answering, rose, Loth to leave these her friends, yet fain for those, More distant but more dear, whose lips were placed Warm on the Bridegroom's, passionately chaste. I know not; this I know: mine ear shall keep Those great soprano sounds until I sleep; And this I know: her brow, her hair, her eye, Shall be to me a glory till I die! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LA NOCHE TRISTE by ROBERT FROST LOVELIGHT by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON WHERE? by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE LEAVES FIRST by CARL PHILLIPS THE SOLDIER'S DREAM by THOMAS CAMPBELL NATIONALITY by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS |