VAIN painter, why dost strive my face to draw. With busy hands, a goddess' eyes ne'er saw? Daughter of air and wind, I do rejoice In empty shouts, without a mind a voice. Within your ears, shrill echo, I rebound, And if you'll paint me like, then paint a sound. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ABANDONED RANCH, BIG BEND by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE HILL ABOVE THE MINE by MALCOLM COWLEY IMAGINARY ANCESTORS: THE GIRAFFE WOMAN OF BURMA by MADELINE DEFREES MARJORIE'S WOOING by EMMA LAZARUS ANCHORED TO THE INFINITE by EDWIN MARKHAM |