She grew, like other girls and flowers, <br />Sheltered and tended daintily; <br />And told her dolls, through sunny hours, <br />A prince would come her love to be. <br /> <br />And none denied her as she grew <br />The kingdom where her prince was lord. <br />For him she bloomed, and drank the dew <br />Of youth, and wore the virgin's sword. <br /> <br />From her strong tower of maidenhood <br />She saw brave men ride east and west; <br />And dreamed of peace in love's deep wood, <br />With babies nestling on her breast. <br /> <br />And when no knight her banner bore, <br />Nor hailed her with love's accolade, <br />Silent beside her open door <br />She wondered first, then grew afraid: <br /> <br />Afraid of quickened dust whereof <br />Life made but phantoms for a show; <br />Afraid of laughter and of love, <br />Of God and his unchanging No. <br /> <br />And things the world calls wise and good <br />She did to bid her fear be still; <br />Gave largess of her brains and blood, <br />Chastened her bold, far-wandering will. <br /> <br />But, withering ever at the heart, <br />She felt her spirit die unborn. <br />A ghost, she moved on earth apart, <br />And feared to face the angels' scorn.<br /><br />Harriet Monroe<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-little-old-maid/
