Page:Anthology of Magazine Verse (1921).djvu/195

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THE MYSTERY
Your eyes drink of me, Love makes them shine,Your eyes that lean So close to mine,
We have long been lovers We know the rangeOf each other's moods And how they change.
But when we look At each other so,Then we feel How little we know.
The spirit eludes us, Timid and free—Can I ever know you Or you know me?
Everybody's MagazineSara Teasdale


EFFIGY OF A NUN
(Sixteenth Century)
Infinite gentleness, infinite irony Are in this face with fast-sealed eyes,And round this mouth that learned in loneliness How useless their wisdom is to the wise.
In her nun's habit carved, carefully, lovingly, By one who knew the ways of womenkind,This woman's face still keeps in its cold wistful calm, All of the subtle pride of her mind.

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