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Poems (Piatt)/Volume 1/The Palace-Burner

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4617730Poems — The Palace-BurnerSarah Piatt
THE PALACE-BURNER. [Paris, 1871.] A Picture in a Newspaper.
She has been burning palaces. "To seeThe sparks look pretty in the wind?" Well, yes—And something more. But women brave as sheLeave much for cowards, such as I, to guess.
But this is old, so old that everythingIs ashes here—the woman and the rest.Two years are—oh! so long. Now you may bringSome newer pictures.—You like this one best?
You wish that you had lived in Paris then?You would have loved to burn a palace, too?But they had guns in France, and Christian menShot wicked little Communists like you.
You would have burned the palace?—Just becauseYou did not live in it yourself! Oh! whyHave I not taught you to respect the laws?You would have burned the palace—would not I?
Would I? . . . Go to your play. . . . Would I, indeed?I? Does the boy not know my soul to beLanguid and worldly, with a dainty needFor light and music? Yet he questions me.
Can he have seen my soul more near than I?Ah! in the dusk and distance sweet she seems,With lips to kiss away a baby's cry,Hands fit for flowers, and eyes for tears and dreams.
Can he have seen my soul? And could she wearSuch utter life upon a dying face:Such unappealing, beautiful despair:Such garments—soon to be a shroud—with grace?
Would I burn palaces? The child has seenIn this fierce creature of the Commune here,So bright with bitterness and so serene,A being finer than my soul, I fear.