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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
IN THE STUDIO, by OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN Poet's Biography
First Line: Bowed in the firelight's softly climbing gleam
Last Line: Falls on her face, and beauty looks at me.
Alternate Author Name(s): Burke, Fielding
Subject(s): Art & Artists
First Line: Bowed in the firelight's softly climbing gleam
Last Line: Falls on her face, and beauty looks at me.
Alternate Author Name(s): Burke, Fielding
Subject(s): Art & Artists
BOWED in the firelight's softly climbing gleam,
I sit a shadow, in a shadow's place;
While through the great, gray window vaguely steam
Twilight caresses on each pictured face
That one hour gone was cold in art's repose;
Now each still canvas answers tremblingly,
Till eyes unveil and living spirit glows
Where no light was while the rude Day went by.
And rudest Day, that passed so sternly bare,
Cold as the life that walks without desire,
Unbeauteous as duty or despair,
Plucked by a hope that will not set her free,
Turns back, while memory's soft, informing fire
Falls on her face, and Beauty looks at me.
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