My Chinese rug means poignant joy to me, I watch its colors blend, in ecstasy. What heathen goddess from her throne on high, Snatched wondrous colors from the evening sky And gave to man to weave? ... What magic art Can blend emotions of the human heart And show them forth in color? ... Mute, I trace Through all its beauty, the genius of a race. I learned the secret of my rug today. No heathen goddess at its birth held sway, But little Chinese children, spent and wan, In bleak, infected room from early dawn Till late at night work steadily ... They sit Before the loom, with faces never lit With joy of childhood's years; yet, frail and sad They give the rug the life they never had. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RIVER by RALPH WALDO EMERSON FAUSTINE by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE STORM AT SEA (1) by ALCAEUS OF MYTILENE CHRISTMAS EPITHALAMIUM by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. THE PROFESSION OF FLATTERY by ANTIPHANES EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 25. ENVY ACCOMPANIES LOVE by PHILIP AYRES |