In this world with starry dome,Floored with gemlike plains and seas,Shall I never feel at home,Never wholly be at ease?
William WatsonShe is not old, she is not young, The Woman with the Serpent's Tongue. The haggard cheek, the hungering eye, The poisoned words that wildly fly, The famished face, the fevered hand, Who slights the worthiest in the land, Sneers at the just, contemns the brave, And blackens goodness in its grave.
William Watson