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 | Poems by William Wetmore Story |  |
246
ART.
DEDICATED TO G. H.
Is this the stately shape I saw
In Greece a thousand years ago;
Who ruled the world by Beauty's law,
And used among the gods to go?
In Greece a thousand years ago;
Who ruled the world by Beauty's law,
And used among the gods to go?
Who, wheresoe'er she turned her eyes,
Below her saw a reverent throng;
Whose praise was taken as a prize;
Who made immortal with a song?
Below her saw a reverent throng;
Whose praise was taken as a prize;
Who made immortal with a song?
Now, scant in garb, a mendicant,
She stretches forth her prayerful palms,
And wealth, in pity for her want,
Contemptuous tosses her its alms.
She stretches forth her prayerful palms,
And wealth, in pity for her want,
Contemptuous tosses her its alms.
This gift is not for charity,
But love, that at thy feet I lay.
Oh, take my heart that throbs for thee,
And smile as in the ancient day!
But love, that at thy feet I lay.
Oh, take my heart that throbs for thee,
And smile as in the ancient day!
| Poems by William Wetmore Story | |