A glimpse of red eyes in the street As I hurry along; A face too pale to be sweet, Too sad to be strong; A face that will nevermore know, Though it die in its pride, That last sad solace of woe -- The power to hide. Ah, sister, we seem not to care, Nor know what to do; But the street has become one long prayer In pity of you. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ELEGY: 11. THE BRACELET; UPON THE LOSS OF HIS MISTRESS'S CHAIN by JOHN DONNE TO MR. GAY, WHO WROTE HIM A CONGRATULATORY LETTER ON FINISHING HOUSE by ALEXANDER POPE THE QUESTION by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE PAUPER'S DEATH-BED by CAROLINE ANNE BOWLES SOUTHEY ON THE KING'S ILLNESS by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD LILIA'S TRESS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET GIVE NOT WITH YOUR HANDS by MACKNIGHT BLACK |