She listened like a cushat dove That listens to its mate alone; She listened like a cushat dove That loves but only one. Not fair as men would reckon fair, Nor noble as they count the line; Only as graceful as a bough And tendrils of the vine; Only as noble as sweet Eve Your ancestress and mine. And downcast were her dovelike eyes, And downcast was her tender cheek, Her pulses fluttered like a dove To hear him speak. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOROTHY'S DOWER by PHOEBE CARY MORTAL COMBAT by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE TWO FUSILIERS by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES THE WORD by WILLIAM WALSHAM HOW LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI by JOHN KEATS |