128 
AMBERGRIS 
Exulting also, now the sun is faded, 
With joy of her supreme fertility 
And glowing masteries 
Of autumn summer-shaded, 
The golden fruit of all the blossoming sky. 
And now the watcher to the bright breasts blind 
Loses the seemly shape, the loud swift song ; 
Now the moon falls, and all the gold is gone, 
And round the storm-caught shape hard gusts of wind 
Blow, and her leaves are torn, a flying throng 
Of orange and purple and red ;  the sombre sun 
Shines darkly in her breast 
But wakes no joy therein, 
And all his kisses sharp and keen 
Bring only now desire of rest, 
Not their old rapture :  the warm violet eyes 
Melt into sweet hot tears ;  subtler the sighs 
Are interfused of death ; 
The brave bright looks grow duller, 
And fear is mingled with love’s ecstasies 
Again, and all her breath 
Fails, and the shape and colour 
Fade, fail, are lost in the sepulchral sea’s.