Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SAFE, by ALICE CARY

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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SAFE, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Ah, she was not an angel to adore
Last Line: As she by death has been elected to.
Subject(s): Death; Dead, The

AH, she was not an angel to adore,
She was not perfect -- she was only this:
A woman to be prattled to, to kiss,
To praise with all sweet praises, and before
Whose face you never were ashamed to lay
The affections of your pride away.

I have kept Fancy traveling to and fro
Full many an hour, to find what name were best,
If there were any sweeter than the rest,
That I might always call my darling so;
And this of woman seems to me the sweetest,
The finest, the most gracious, the completest.

The dust she wore about her I agree
Was poor and sickly, even to make you sad,
But this rough world we live in never had
An ornament more excellent than she;
The earthly dress was all so frail that you
Could see the beauteous spirit shining through.

Not what she was, but what she was to me
Is what I fain would tell -- from her was drawn
The softness of the eve, the light of dawn;
With her and for her I could only see
What things were sweet and sensible and pure;
Now all is dull, slow guessing, nothing sure.

My sorrow with this comfort yet is stilled --
I do not dread to hear the winter stir
His wild winds up -- I have no fear for her:
And all my love could never hope to build
A place so sweet beneath heaven's arch of blue,
As she by death has been elected to.

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