Skip to content
1837–1913

XIV.

Joaquin Miller

The sky is like an opal sea, The air is like the breath of kine, But oh her face is white, and she Leans faint to see a lifted sign,—

To see two hands lift up and wave To see a face so white with woe, So ghastly, hollow, white as though It had that moment left the grave.

Her sweet face at that ghostly sign, Her fair face in her weight of hair, Is like a white dove drowning there,— A white dove drowned in Tuscan wine.

He tries to stand, to stand erect. ‘ Tis gold,‘ tis gold that holds him down! And soul and body both must drown,— Two millstones tied about his neck.

Now once again his piteous face Is raised to her face reaching there. He prays such piteous, silent prayer As prays a dying man for grace.

It is not good to see him strain To lift his hands, to gasp, to try To speak. His parched lips are so dry Their sight is as a living pain.

I think that rich man down in hell Some like this old man with his gold,— To gasp and gasp perpetual Like to this minute I have told.

Cookies on Poetry Cove

We use cookies to remember your language preference and — only with your consent — to learn how Poetry Cove is used. You can change your mind any time.
XIV. · Joaquin Miller · Poetry Cove