Poem for July 2018: 'A Proud Lady' by Elinor Wylie

      A Proud Lady

     Hate in the world’s hand

     Can carve and set its seal

     Like the strong blast of sand

     Which cuts into steel.

     I have seen how the finger of hate

     Can mar and mould

     Faces burned passionate

     And frozen cold.

     Sorrowful faces worn

     As stone with rain,

     Faces writhing with scorn

     And sullen with pain.

     But you have a proud face

     Which the world cannot harm,

     You have turned the pain to a grace

     And the scorn to a charm.

     You have taken the arrows and slings

     Which prick and bruise

     And fashioned them into wings

     For the heels of your shoes.

     From the world’s hand which tries

     To tear you apart

     You have stolen the falcon’s eyes

     And the lion’s heart.

     What has it done, this world,

     With hard finger-tips,

     But sweetly chiseled and curled

     Your inscrutable lips?

     Elinor Wylie, New York Evening Post, October 1920