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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 | ||