This man knew out the secret ways of love, No man could paint such things who did not know. And now she's gone, who was his Cyprian, And you are here, who are "The Isles" to me. And here's the thing that lasts the whole thing out: The eyes of this dead lady speak to me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ENVOYS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON FLUTE-PRIEST SONG FOR RAIN; CEREMONIAL AT THE SUN SPRING by AMY LOWELL THE ALTAR by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE DARKEST HOUR; OXFORD, 1917 by GEORGE SANTAYANA SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 4 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |