Her beauty, which we talk of, Is but half her fate. All does not come to light Until the two halves meet And we are silent And she speaks, Her whole fate saying, She is, she is not, in one breath. But we will tell only half, fear to know all Lest all should be to tell And our mouths choke with flame Of her consuming And lose the gift of prophecy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE TO THE JOHNS HOPKINS UNIVERSITY by SIDNEY LANIER A NEW HYMN by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE HOUSE OF DREAMS by SARA TEASDALE THE CHRONICLE; A BALLAD by ABRAHAM COWLEY INTERIM by CLARISSA SCOTT DELANY |