To Eleonora Duse II


Your beauty lives in mystic melodies,
And all the light about you breathes a song.
Your voice awakes the dreaming airs that throng
Within our music-haunted memories.
The sirens' strain that sank within the seas
When men forgot to listen, floats along
Your voice's undercurrent soft and strong.
Sicilian shepherds pipe beneath the trees;
Along the purple hills of drifted sand,
A lone Egyptian plays an ancient flute;
At dawn the Memnon gives his old salute
Beside the Nile, by desert breezes fanned.
The music faints about you as you stand,
And with the Orphean lay it trembles mute.


facebook share button twitter share button reddit share button share on pinterest pinterest

Add To Eleonora Duse II to your library.

Return to the Sara Teasdale library , or . . . Read the next poem; To Eleonora Duse In "The Dead City"

© 2022