A Sculptor and Other Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

I was Pygmalion's handiwork; I grew
Into that beauty he had bidden be;
He saw, and gaz'd, and lov'd exceedingly,
Yea, lov'd me into life. He little knew
I, who was his and he and myself too,
Had other life in store for him and me,
Art's life of splendid immortality,
A meed for ever paying, for ever due!
Why did he win for me this mortal breath
Why did the ivory sheen of face and limb
Flush into tender ruddiness for him?
O fateful praying love that quickeneth!
Alas for the perisht pride, the fame-gold dim,
The gift, my life, that to his name was death.