TO A YOUNG WOMAN

THOU ART, WHO HAST NOT BEEN! 🔊

Pale tunes irresolute

And traceries of old sounds 🔊

  Blown from a rotted flute

  Mingle with noise of cymbals rouged with rust, 🔊

  Nor not strange forms and epicene

Lie bleeding in the dust, 🔊

Being wounded with wounds. 🔊

  For this it is 🔊

  That in thy counterpart

  Of age-long mockeries 🔊

  THOU HAST NOT BEEN NOR ART! 🔊