To lift her veil, whose broideries Are hornéd moons and lotuses, None dare, though priest and thurifer Charm her with frankincense and myrrh, And long-drawn mystic harmonies. Of all mankind's divinities None secreter than this of his! Behold, 'tis but to anger her To lift her veil. Natheless, in each man's time there is A lifting of her veil: each @3dies@1. To die, when all the hate and stir Are o'er, to be a slumberer, To dream perchance,—Oh, is not this To lift her veil? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO E. T.: 1917 by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE PORTRAIT D'UNE FEMME by EZRA POUND NIGHTINGALE AND CUCKOO by ALFRED AUSTIN TO HIS WIFE WITH A KNIFE ON THE 14TH ANNIVERSARY OF HER WEDDING DAY by SAMUEL BISHOP |