SO you have wondered at me, -- guessed in vain What the real woman is you know so well? I am a lost illusion. Some strange spell Once made your friend there, with his fine disdain Of fact, conceive me perfect. He would fain (But could not) see me always, as befell His dream to see me, plucking asphodel, In saffron robes, on some celestial plain. All that I was he marred and flung away In quest of what I was not, could not be, -- Lilith, or Helen, or Antigone. Still he may search; but I have had my day, And now the Past is all the part for me That this world's empty stage has left to play. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY THE CARD-DEALER by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI TO HARTLEY COLERIDGE; SIX YEARS OLD by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH MY LETTERS by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM ON THE WATERFRONT by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: A GHOST STORY by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |