Page:Poetry, a magazine of verse, Volume 7 (October 1915-March 1916).djvu/300

POETRY: A Magazine of Verse Who is my beauty's equal, though that my heart denies; But not the exact likeness, the simplicity of a child, And that proud look as though she had gazed into the burning sun, And all the shapely body no tittle gone astray, I mourn far that most lonely thing: and yet God's will be done— I knew a phoenix in my youth so let them have their day.