Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, VENUS OF THE LOUVRE, by EMMA LAZARUS



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VENUS OF THE LOUVRE, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Down the long hall she glistens like a star
Last Line: For vanished hellas and hebraic pain.
Subject(s): Art & Artists; Heine, Heinrich (1797-1856); Louvre, Paris; Poetry & Poets; Sculpture & Sculptors; Venus De Milo


DOWN the long hall she glistens like a star,
The foam-born mother of Love, transfixed to stone,
Yet none the less immortal, breathing on.
Time's brutal hand hath maimed but could not mar.
When first the enthralled enchantress from afar
Dazzled mine eyes, I saw not her alone,
Serenely poised on her world-worshipped throne,
As when she guided once her dove-drawn car, --
But at her feet a pale, death-stricken Jew,
Her life adorer, sobbed farewell to love.
Here Heine wept! Here still he weeps anew,
Nor ever shall his shadow lift or move,
While mourns one ardent heart, one poet-brain,
For vanished Hellas and Hebraic pain.





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