No !  not in Fancy’s palace will I play, 
Nor in imagination’s deep will dip 
The timid foot ;  but rather will I strip 
Each rag of thought, and leap 
Into the sunset deep 
Still glowing with the glamour 
Of your life’s blood, and ashen gold 
With floating gossamer your hair, that might enfold 
A giant god, and strangle him anon 
With starry serpents like Laocoon, 
A stoic god that might enamour 
And draw him with its tendrils into time. 
 
VII 
 
Y mouth was wet with the delicious crime 
  Of kissing you, one night, when in a vision 
Your hair was like a forest of tall pines 
In winter ;  black strange dwarfs with crooked spines 
And elfin eyes, and bleating mouths that worked 
All manner of grimace and bleak derision 
Bore them away ;  hollow-eyed ghosts that lurked 
About the sea made thereof masts ;  they fitted 
Tall ships and goodly, furrowing the deep 
To harvest merchandise ;  strong and keen-witted 
The mariners ;  oho !  the breezes leap 
Like lovers on them ;  lo !  they faréd forth 
7 
M