I saw her in a Broadway car,
The woman I might grow to be;
I felt my lover look at her
And then turn suddenly to me.
Her hair was dull and drew no light
And yet its color was as mine;
Her eyes were strangely like my eyes
Tho' love had never made them shine.
Her body was a thing grown thin,
Hungry for love that never came;
Her soul was frozen in the dark
Unwarmed forever by love's flame.
I felt my lover look at her
And then turn suddenly to me,-
His eyes were magic to defy
The woman I shall never be.
The Old Maid
Sara Teasdale
(1)
Poem topics: car, dark, hair, light, magic, forever, soul, frozen, flame, shine, color, body, hungry, woman, suddenly, never, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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About The Old Maid
The Old Maid is a poem by Sara Teasdale. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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