208 MYSTERIES:
When the feast turned to death for us; we reck
Nothing to-night of all that past despair :
Only to-night I watch your curving neck,
And play with all the kisses of your hair,
And feel your weight, as if you were to be
Always and always—O my queen, how rare
Your lips’ perfume; like lilies on the sea
Your white breasts glimmer; let us wait awhile.
There is no breeze to drive us down to lee
On the cold rocks of yonder icy isle,
And your sire’s passion must forget the chase
As I forget, the moment that you smile,
And sea and sky are brighter for your face—
I hear the sound of many oars; perchance
Your father’s, but within this iron place
The heavy dragons will not dare advance
Where our light vessel barely skimmed the rock :
Their anger may grow cool, the while they dance
Like fools before the bar we crossed, and mock
Pursuit. Behold! one dragon strikes the reef,
Breaks in the midst before the dreadful shock,
Shattered and stricken by the rousing sheaf
Of wild intolerable foam that breaks
Full on their stem: she sinks. One fierce foul thief