The soft-shod nuns have laid the last fold straight In her last raiment, telling their slow beads With measured memories of her faithful deeds, And prayers for her soul's sake, importunate. Now they are gone, gray shadows, to the call Of a far vesper bell; and foot and head, Two pallid tapers tall -- Glimmering, gaunt, thick stifled with the gloom Of wan dusk deep'ning to the naked room -- Guard her, a short day dead. White and austere and virginal she lies: Pale brow, pale fallen lids, hair meetly drest; Straight shoulders never burdened, mother-wise, Of weary little bodies sleep-possest; Meek mouth uncurved of kisses, folded eyes; Thin hands light linked across a shallow breast; Beyond desire, past sorrow and past surprise, Mute, passionless, at rest. Strange, as I watch, a faint soft flame of youth Brightens upon her, slowly, wondrously, And lends her magic dower . . . A look of vision and of prophecy. Not curve of cheek and color of fine rose, Not curl nor fleeting dimple -- none of those, But the warm beauty and the tender ruth Of April sunlight on an autumn flower One brief, miraculous hour. Lo, what at last are dust and age and death! Time cannot touch the innermost spirit . . . See -- Half smiling, confident of joy to be, Sure of her heritage, with bated breath Biding her destiny, She waits, a slim girl wistful of the truth, Life still a dream -- Love still a mystery! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FROM THE AGES WITH A SMILE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS NICHARCHUS UPON PHIDON HIS DOCTOR by EZRA POUND LINES TO A MOVEMENT IN MOZART'S E-FLAT SYMPHONY by THOMAS HARDY UNDER THE VIOLETS by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES TO SIR HENRY GOODYERE by BEN JONSON FONTENOY, 1745: 2. AFTER THE BATTLE, EARLY DAWN, CLARE COAST by EMILY LAWLESS |