This week has aged me, Love, a thousand years. The pain has left me humbled and more wise. The pallor of my features, Love, belies the terror of my heart's immortal fears. My spirit like a lingering star which peers so lonely though the winter's weird sunrise has hovered round my soul which, chastened, flies to live a holy life among the seers. Oh Love, I am a princess in a tower surveying every action, thought and word. Oh Love, I am a fragrant rose-lined bower divinely conscious of each bee and bird. Oh Love, I am the shepherd of the hour, the perfect master of my gentle herd! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHORUS OF THE CLOUD-MAIDEN: ANTISTROPHE, FR. THE CLOUDS by ARISTOPHANES CROSS-CURRENTS by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 22 by THOMAS CAMPION THE LUST OF THE WORLD by MADISON JULIUS CAWEIN |