The Winged Beetle

34 THE WINGS WITH A GIFT TO MY LADY HAD I these wings, I would not need to write. I would be with you ; then, a young male swan, I would find happiness afloat upon The ripples of your muscular body, bright As mother-of-pearl may be in God’s own sight When He would found His whole new heaven thereon ! Thence, would my body were One Eye, to con Your face, the rosy lotus of delight ! I would dip deep my beak into the flower And pluck your tongue, its ruby heart, and shower All my life’s love upon you, swift as Spring’s ! And I would lift you on my pinions To light and heat more splendid than the sun’s, Mistress !—Woe’s me ! for I have not these wings.