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Title: At The Lyceum
Author: Arthur Symons [ More Titles by Symons]
HER eyes are brands that keep the angry heat Of fire that crawls and leaves an ashen The dust of this devouring flame she hath Upon her cheeks and eyelids. Fresh and sweet In days that were, her sultry beauty now Is pain transfigured, love's impenitence, The memory of a maiden innocence, As a crown set upon a weary brow. She sits, and fain would listen, fain forget; She smiles, but with those tragic, waiting eyes, Those proud and piteous lips that hunger yet For love's fulfilment. Ah, when Landry cries "My heart is dead!" with what a wild regret Her own heart feels the throb that never dies!
[The end] Arthur Symons's poem: At The Lyceum ________________________________________________
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