NOT beauty which men gaze on with a smile, Not grace that wins, no charm of form or hue, Dwelt with that scene. Sternly upon my view, And slowly, -- as the shrouding clouds awhile Disclosed the beetling crag and lonely isle, -- From their dim lake the ghostly mountains grew, Lit by one slanting ray. An eagle flew From out the gloomy gulf of the defile, Like some sad spirit from Hades. To the shore Dark waters rolled, slow heaving, with dull moan; The foam-flakes hanging from each livid stone Like froth on deathful lips: pale mosses o'er The shattered cell crept, as an orphan lone Clasps his cold mother's breast when life is gone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BOOTH'S PHILIPPI by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DOMESDAY BOOK: FINDING OF THE BODY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DOMESDAY BOOK: LILLI ALM by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: AMOS SIBLEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JAMES GARBER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER by JOHN CROWE RANSOM |