BEAUTY like hers is genius. Not the call Of Homer's or of Dante's heart sublime,-- Not Michael's hand furrowing the zones of time,-- Is more with compassed mysteries musical; Nay, not in Spring's or Summer's sweet footfall More gathered gifts exuberant Life bequeathes Than doth this sovereign face, whose love-spell breathes Even from its shadowed contour on the wall. As many men are poets in their youth, But for one sweet-strung soul the wires prolong Even through all change the indomitable song; So in likewise the envenomed years, whose tooth Rends shallower grace with ruin void of ruth, Upon this beauty's power shall wreak no wrong. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GIANTS OF HISTORY by JAMES GALVIN WOMAN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SONG FOR A VIOLA D'AMORE by AMY LOWELL TWO POEMS FROM THE WAR: 1 by ARCHIBALD MACLEISH SURFACES AND MASKS; 1 by CLARENCE MAJOR ON A YOUNG LADY'S SIXTH ANNIVERSARY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD |