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1876–1944

TO B. D.

Helen Hay Whitney

Broad browed beneath a cloud of dusky hair Her eyes are midnight seas that never sleep But see beyond the dull world's heavy air The mystery of ages buried deep.

The faint sweet shadows trembling round her mouth Lighten with youth and love the Sphinx's face. And as she moves, a soft wind from the South Floating, flower-laden seems — so sweet her grace.

Aloof she stands, from idle mirth and tears And keeps the white sails of her spirit furled, Altho’ a girl, pure from the stain of years, An ancient Egypt, smiling at the world.

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TO B. D. · Helen Hay Whitney · Poetry Cove