Rosa Coeli

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