The Winged Beetle

THE SILENCE OF COLUMBINE 113 Of your long hairs that hiss Drew me so subtly to it ? We stole one lightning kiss With only God to view it. IV Hush ! Across the stair. How its creak is thunder ! Now care ! now dare ! be ware ! Or—saved ! at last I’m there, Drowned in your torrent hair, A flame, a waif, a wonder. A lioness in her lair Your body leaps from under. V Take the prize on trust ! Dare the course and run it !— Sweet knight, you win the just,— Your thrust ! a gust of lust !— Ah, God, then, if you must— Wordless still, we’ve won it ! Tall Troy is in the dust ! We’ve done it, done it, done it ! VI Do you love me, dear ? Said the glance you darted. Good cheer ! why fear the year ! Twice one is two, I hear !