My Last Dance by Julia Ward Howe
The shell of objects inwardly consumed Will stand, till some convulsive wind awakes; Such sense hath Fire to waste the heart of things, Nature, such love to hold the form she makes. Thus, wasted joys will show their early bloom, Yet crumble at the breath of a caress; The golden fruitage hides the scathèd bough, Snatch it, thou scatterest wide its emptiness. For pleasure bidden, I went forth last night To where, thick hung, the festal torches gleamed; Here were the flowers, the music, as of old, Almost the very olden time it seemed.
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"The shell of objects inwardly consumed..."
"My Last Dance" by Julia Ward Howe is a sad and love and deep and nature and inspirational and romantic english poem consisting of 55 lines. This English poem by Julia Ward Howe demonstrates the timeless power of verse to capture complex human emotions. Beginning with "The shell of objects inwardly consumed Will stand, till some convulsive wind awakes;...", this piece explores themes of sad and love and deep and nature and inspirational and romantic through vivid imagery and emotional resonance. The work invites contemplation on the deeper currents of life, love, and the human condition. Julia Ward Howe's celebrated body of poetry continues to inspire readers across generations and cultures, and this particular work stands as a powerful example of their artistic vision.