Poems about veil
That At The Last, It Was Not Frost,
then veil my too inspecting face
it was not frost, for on my flesh
that at the last, it should not be a novel agony
so he let me lead him in
Thine Eyes Are Sadly Blinded, But Yet Thou
that our ignoble eyes
thine eyes are sadly blinded, but yet thou mayest see
this dost thou doubt sweet
alone if those "veiled faces" be
to that repealless thing
were infinite to me
Free From The Frosty Window Veil
when the frosty window veil
before them over their heads to dry in the sun,
free from the least knot, equal to the strain
will the special janizary
where the grist of the new-beginning brooks
and taking formal position,
and the saw snarled and rattled, snarled and rattled,
and tripped the body, shot the spirit on
and bade him leave the pan and stoke the arch,