The Winged Beetle

207 LE BALCON MOTHER of memories, and queen of queens ! Thou, all my happiness ! Thou, all my duty ! Remember the dear hearth, the twilight screens, Thy beauty, and our passion, and thy beauty ! Mother of memories, and queen of queens ! Those evenings in the firelight velvet-lined Or on the balcony, veiled by rosy wings Of mist. Thy breast was soft, thy kiss was kind. We often said imperishable things Those evenings in the firelight velvet-lined. On summer evenings how the sun is fine ! How space seems deep ! How roars the heart’s red flood ! I lean toward thee, adoring, queen of mine, And thought I breathed the perfume of thy blood— On summer evenings how the sun is fine ! The night fell thick and thick, a screen of sable ; Mine eyes within the blackness guessed at thine. I drank thy sighs—oh poison comfortable ! Thy feet slept in these brother hands of mine : The night fell thick and thick, a screen of sable.