Ambergris

AMBERGRIS 121 FROM RODIN IN RIME Faunesse The veil o’ th’ mist of the quiet wood is lifted to the seer’s gaze ; He burns athwart the murky maze beyond into be- atitude. A solemn rapture holds the faun : an holy joy sucks up the seer Within its rose-revolving sphere, the orient oval of the dawn. Light’s graven old cartouche is sealed upon the for- est : groves are gray With filtered glamours of the day, the steely ray flung off his shield. She kneels, yon spirit of the earth ; she kneels and looks toward the east. In her gray eyes awakes the beast from slumber into druid mirth. She is amazed, she, eager, she, exotic orchid of the glade ! She waits the ripe, exultant blade, life tempered by eternity. And I who witness am possessed by awe grown crimson with desire, Its iron image wrapped in fire and branded idly on my breast. Her face is bronze, her skin is green, as woods and suns would have it so.