And so she was condemned to pass the night Above, beneath, beside, within a flame; And everywhere she looked the sky was bright, And everywhere she turned the burning came. Tongues licked her body, and a blaze Piled up as though her April skin were pitch; And yet she rose unharmed, and went her ways, And the grey monks intoned, She was no witch, She was no witch! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A LOVER'S QUARREL by ROBERT BROWNING TO A PINE TREE by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL A SUMMER NIGHT by MATTHEW ARNOLD NORTHERN LIGHTS by EINAR BENEDIKTSSON IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: HONOUR DISHONOURED by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |