Page:The Yellow Book - 07.djvu/234

 The dust of earthly days and years
 * Scarce dims her delicate loveliness—

Only the eyelids, tired of tears,
 * Droop low—their flower-like pallidness
 * Bruised faintly by pain's bitterness.

Only her hands, like ivory,
 * Are stained a little by the sun,

And roughed with constant use—for she
 * Is careless of their beauty won
 * From dawn of life so easily.

Alas! that her slim feet should tread
 * The world's uneven stony ways!

That she should know dull cares and dread—
 * Long lonely nights and sordid days,
 * Being so fashioned for love's praise.

Lest she should sin or faint from fear,
 * Let one swift angel heed my prayer,

And straight descending to this sphere
 * Spread wide wings o'er her everywhere,—
 * Lest she should fall—who is so dear!