Oracles

I22 ANIMA LUNAE A child cried out that he had seen that face Limned with incomparable grace Even in the shape of splendour as she passed. The king’s thought turned at last To that forgotten story : and desire Filled all his heart with aureate fire Whose texture was a woman’s hair : so fine Bloomed the fair flower of pleasure : Not the wild solar treasure Of gleaming light, but the moon’s shadowy pearl, The love of a young girl Before she knows that love : so mused the king ; “ I am not weary of the soul of spring” He said, “ none happier in this causeless chain Of life that bears no fruit of pain, No seed of sorrow,” yet his heart was stirred, And, wasting no weak word On the invulnerable air, that had No soul of memories sad, He passed through all the palace : in his bowers He stooped and kissed the flowers ; And in his hall of audience stayed awhile, And with a glad strange smile Bade a farewell to all those lords of his ; And greeted with a kiss The virgins clustered in his halls of bliss. Next, passing through the city, gave his hand To many a joyous band Flower-decked that wandered through the wanton ways Through summer’s idle days.