 | Poems and dramas of George Cabot Lodge |  |
124
III
Her voice is pure and grave as song;Her lips are flushed as sunset skies;
The power, the myth, the mysteries
Of life and death in silence throng
The secret of her silences;
Her face is sumptuous and strong,
And twilights far within prolong
The spacious glory of her eyes.
Her heart is like a place of power,
A pale of peace, a precinct of
Passion and all-consuming love ...
Her thought is like a lofty tower;
Her soul is like a Bride therein,
Whom only truth and love shall win.
| Poems and dramas of George Cabot Lodge | |