Why is it, child, you choose to wear That artful 1830 air Of artlessness made artifice? To lure all lips to long to kiss The saint-like halo of your hair? "I am the spirit of a fan. Ah, once, what wanton breezes ran Across my silk and ivory! As a fan's breath is life to me, I have no heart for any man. "As a fan fluttered by a wrist, Bright lips that now are dust have kissed, I waken, out of other hours, The phantoms of forgotten flowers That hold me to a phantom tryst. "If these calm eyes, if that pure cheek, If this soft haloed hair, could speak The false, fantastic, final truth, In some remote, remembered youth I loved Gavarni for a week." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...JASPER by DONALD (GRADY) DAVIDSON A THOUGHT SUGGESTED BY A VIEW, OF SADDLEBACK IN CUMBERLAND by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE SPOILS OF THE DEAD by ROBERT FROST ACCIDENT IN ART by RICHARD HOVEY TASTING THE EARTH by JAMES OPPENHEIM |