Yes, she was beauteous; if the Night By Michael's chisel wrought, A marble monument asleep, Can beautiful be thought. And she was good; if goodness be Devoid of heart and cold; If Love be shewn by alms alone; If Charity be gold. She thought; if words in dulcet tones, Significant of nought, Vague as the murmur of a stream, Deserve the name of thought. She prayed; if prayer it can be called, To fix two lustrous eyes Now, meekly downward on the earth, Now, upward on the skies. She smiled; if e'er the virgin bud, With heart unclosed as yet, Smiles to the zephyrs of the spring That pass it—and forget. She might have wept; if dews divine, That soften human clay, Could ever to her chilly breast Have found some secret way. She might have loved; but scorn and pride Kept watch about her heart, Like lamps that o'er a coffined form Their useless radiance dart. Now, she who only seemed to live But had no life, is dead, And from her hands the book has dropped In which she never read! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OF ANY OLD MAN by ISAAC ROSENBERG PENITENTIAL PSALM: 6. DOMINE NE IN FURORE by THOMAS WYATT WOMEN AND ROSES by ROBERT BROWNING THE PROUD MISS MACBRIDE; A LEGEND OF GOTHAM by JOHN GODFREY SAXE MANASSAS [JULY 21, 1861] by CATHERINE ANNE WARFIELD TO THE DAISY (2) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH DESERT WIFE by NELLIE COOLEY ALDER PRAYER AFTER YOUTH by MAXWELL ANDERSON LYSISTRATA: HYMN OF PEACE; CHORUSES OF ATHENIANS AND SPARTANS by ARISTOPHANES |