From Phyllis McGinley’s One More Manhattan.

Portrait

Her thought is separate from her act
 And neither her defender is,
Whose nature seems at once compact
 Of courage and of cowardice.

Beset by hurricane and flood,
 She seeks no amnesty from Death,
Yet lacks intrinsic hardihood
 To weather a disdainful breath.

Watching the year grow late, grow late,
 She finds no desperation in it,
But cannot bear love’s little wait
 Between a minute and a minute.

Let the earth shake. She stands her ground.
 Let her house fall. She will not flee,
Who yet is shattered by the sound
 Of one door, closing, distantly.