The Ballet
They crush together - a rustling heap of flesh - Of more than flesh, a heap of souls; and then They part, enmesh, And crush together again, Like the pink petals of a too sanguine rose Frightened shut just when it blows. Though all alike in their tinsel livery, And indistinguishable at a sweeping glance, They muster, maybe, As lives wide in irrelevance; A world of her own has each one underneath, Detached as a sword from its sheath. Daughters, wives, mistresses; honest or false, sold, bought; Hearts of all sizes; gay, fond, gushing, or penned, Various in thought Of lover, rival, friend; Links in a one-pulsed chain, all showing one smile, Yet severed so many a mile!
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"They crush together - a rustling heap of flesh -..."
Exploring the themes of classic, Thomas Hardy delivers a powerful performance in "The Ballet"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...