 | Fantasy and Passion |  |
161
ART.
I saw in dreams a shape of mightiest mold,
Wrought from stern bronze and towering in midair;
A grand similitude of some goddess, fair
With a beauty radiant yet supremely cold.
She seemed invisible distance to behold,
Nor ever drooped her languorous look to where,
Down-broadening from her pedestal, a stair
Of ample depth imperially outrolled.
Wrought from stern bronze and towering in midair;
A grand similitude of some goddess, fair
With a beauty radiant yet supremely cold.
She seemed invisible distance to behold,
Nor ever drooped her languorous look to where,
Down-broadening from her pedestal, a stair
Of ample depth imperially outrolled.
And on these haughty steps, crouched suppliantwise,
I saw, at differing intervals apart,
Sad men who seemed to adore, lament, entreat;
And one, a poet, with anguish in his eyes,
Tore from a wound his own red quivering heart
And flung it against the statue's brazen feet!
I saw, at differing intervals apart,
Sad men who seemed to adore, lament, entreat;
And one, a poet, with anguish in his eyes,
Tore from a wound his own red quivering heart
And flung it against the statue's brazen feet!
| Fantasy and Passion | |