She sat, like all the rest of us, at tea. It seemed at first as if she raised her cup Not quite as all the others held theirs up. She smiled: her smile was pitiful to see. And when we rose at last with talk and laughter, And through the many rooms with idle pace, As chance would have it, strolled from place to place -- Then I saw her. She slowly followed after, Bestrained, like one who must be calm and cool Because she soon will sing before a crowd; Upon her happy eyes, without a cloud, The light fell from outside, as on a pool. She followed slowly, hesitating, shy, As if some height or bridge must still be passed, And yet--as if, when that was done, at last She would no longer walk her way, but fly. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WAVES OF BREFFNY by EVA GORE-BOOTH EXODUS FOR OREGON by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER ON MICHAEL ANGELO by WASHINGTON ALLSTON EPIGRAM by DECIMUS MAGNUS AUSONIUS TO ADOLPHE GAIFFE by THEODORE FAULLAIN DE BANVILLE TO-NIGHT ACROSS THE SEA by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: TO THE QUEEN OF SERPENTS by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |