This city is the child of France and Spain That once lived nobly, ardent as the heat In which it came to birth. Alas, how fleet The years of love and arms! There now remain, Bleached by the sun and mouldered by the rain, Impassive fronts that guard some rare retreat, Some dim, arched salon, or some garden sweet Where dreams persist and the past lives again. The braided iron of the balconies Is like locked hands, fastidiously set To bar the world. But the proud mysteries Showed me a glamour I may not forget: Your face, camellia-white upon the stair, Framed in the midnight thicket of your hair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COLORS by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET JAWEH AND ALLAH BATTLE by ALLEN GINSBERG TO HORACE BUMSTEAD by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON TWO POEMS FROM THE WAR: 2 by ARCHIBALD MACLEISH DOMESDAY BOOK: MRS. GREGORY WENNER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: BARNEY HAINSFEATHER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |