William Alexander

Methought

 Next Poem          

Methought I saw one pass, son of the race
Wherein the splendid mediate we seek
Betwixt the West and Asia, a quick Greek
Hellenic, out of Antioch. I could trace
Moods ever flitting o'er his mobile face.
Pathetic was his voice, and seemed to break
With pity for the hearts of those who ache.
He look'd for beauty in some lovely place,
Perfect but unattainable. His glance
Had something piercing various natures through
Down to the deep foundations of our life,
Yet seeking in heav'n an unimagined blue;
And round about our vile and vulgar strife,
Beauty and charm, the magic and romance.

Next Poem 

 Back to William Alexander