 | Poems by William Wetmore Story |  |
[X. That dress of thine is made of many lives; I see]
That dress of thine is made of many lives; I see
Upon thy coral there the diver's misery.
Upon thy coral there the diver's misery.
Thy shawl is red with blood, for that the camel bled;
The seamstress sewed her pain into thy lace's thread.
The seamstress sewed her pain into thy lace's thread.
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The tortured worm gave up his tomb thy silk to make,
The oyster bore his pearl of trouble for thy sake.
The oyster bore his pearl of trouble for thy sake.
The frolic kid was flayed thy snowy hands to hide,
A thousand cochineals to paint thy ribbon died.
A thousand cochineals to paint thy ribbon died.
Thou wouldst not crush a worm, so gentle is thy heart,
And yet, behold! how strange a paradox thou art.
And yet, behold! how strange a paradox thou art.
| Poems by William Wetmore Story | |