I am the torch, she saith, and what to me If the moth die of me? I am the flame Of Beauty, and I burn that all may see Beauty, and I have neither joy nor shame, But live with that clear light of perfect fire Which is to men the death of their desire. I am Yseult and Helen, I have seen Troy burn, and the most loving knight lie dead. The world has been my mirror, time has been My breath upon the glass; and men have said, Age after age, in rapture and despair, Love's poor few words, before my image there. I live, and am immortal; in my eyes The sorrow of the world, and on my lips The joy of life, mingle to make me wise; Yet now the day is darkened with eclipse: Who is there still lives for beauty? Still am I The torch, but where's the moth that still dares die? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A LITTLE WHILE by HORATIO (HORATIUS) BONAR LINES INSCRIBED UPON A CUP FORMED FROM A SKULL by GEORGE GORDON BYRON SCHOOLBOYS IN WINTER by JOHN CLARE THE BAT by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON SIDNEY GODOLPHIN by CLINTON SCOLLARD VULTURES by GHALIB IBN RIBAH AL-HAJJAM |