Beauty has a tarnished dress, And a patchwork cloak of cloth Dipped deep in mournfulness, Striped like a moth. Wet grass where it trails Dyes it green along the hem; She has seven silver veils With cracked bells on them. She is tired of all these -- Gray gauze, translucent lawn; The broad cloak of Herakles Is tangled flame and fawn. Water and light are wearing thin: She has drawn above her head The warm enormous lion skin Rough gold and red. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OUT WHERE THE WEST BEGINS by ARTHUR CHAPMAN YOUR LAD, AND MY LAD by RANDALL PARRISH THE SLEEPING BEAUTY by SAMUEL ROGERS THE FOOL'S PRAYER by EDWARD ROWLAND SILL REMINDER by INDRAN AMIRTHANAYAGAM SEVEN HONEST MEN by MARTIN BENSON CLEVEDON VERSES: 9. THE VOICES OF NATURE by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN DIS ALITER VISUM; OR, LE BYRON DE NOS JOURS by ROBERT BROWNING |