Alice Cary

(1820-1871 / USA)

The Deserted Fylgia - Poem by Alice Cary

Like a meteor, radiant, streaming,
Seems her hair to me,
And thou bear'st her feet like lilies,
Dark and chilly sea!

Wannish fires enclasp her bosom,
Like the Northern Light,
And like icicles her fingers
Glisten, locked and white.

On the blue and icy ocean,
As a stony floor,
Toward thy boat, oh, dying Viking,
Walks she evermore!

Like a star on morning's forehead,
When the intense air,
Sweeping o'er the face of heaven,
Lays its far depths bare -

Is the beauty of her smiling,
Pale and cold and clear -
What, oh, fearful, dying Viking,
Doth the maiden here?

Moaningly his white lips tremble,
But no voice replies -
Starlight in the blue waves frozen,
Seem his closing eyes.

Woman's lot is thine, oh Fylgia,
Mourning broken faith,
And her mighty love outlasting
Chance and change and death!


Comments about The Deserted Fylgia by Alice Cary

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Friday, April 11, 2014



[Hata Bildir]