Within her shadowed room, the hush Of silence where erst was heard The sweetness of the welcoming word; Upon the easel lies the brush And hangs the palette bright, now dull and dry. Her chair is empty, but the hands Of skill have left their glowing trace On canvas rich with many a place Interpreted from far-off lands, In tones like pastels from the orient sky. Here pictured shrines of Philæ's shore, Here Karnak's sphinx and templed halls; The smooth-kissed stones of Zion's walls Where Israel's sons their wails out-pour; And here the sun-smit tombs of Judah's kings. In cabinets of crusted bowls Whose rose hues flush to life the clay, Soft lights on tinted ivories play; For hers was of those cosmic souls Whose media lay in all material things. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHAT WE SAID THE LIGHT SAID by JAMES GALVIN CURTAIN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE CRANES OF IBYCUS by EMMA LAZARUS UNWANTED MEMORY by CLARENCE MAJOR SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MRS. MERRITT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |