SUMMER
Full is the joy of Maidenhood made strong,
Too proud to bend to swift Apollo’s kiss ;
Rejoicing in its splendour, and the throng
Of gaunt hounds leashless before Artemis.
In strange exulting bliss
The maiden stands, full-grown, with bounding breasts
Bared to the noon, and narrow
Keen eyes, that glance, dim fires that veil their crests
To flame along the arrow
Aimed at some gallant of ten tines perched high
Branching against the sky
His cedar-spreading horns: erect she stands,
Holding in glimmering hands
A silver bow across the shining weather,
While, bound in pearl-wrought bands,
. Her bright hairstreams; shedraws the quivering feather
Back to the small ear curved: with golden zone
Gathering her limbs she stands alone
Like a young antelope poised upon a spire of stone.
What tender lightning flashes in the bosom
Heaving with vigour of young life? What storm
Gathers across the brow’s broad lotus-blossom?
What sudden passion fills the fragrant form
With subtle streams of warm
Blood tingling to the finger-tips of rose?
Swiftly the maiden closes
The lustre of her look: disdainful glows
The fire of wreathing roses
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