The Equinox (Volume I, Number III)

THE FELON FLOWER As the sighing of souls that are waiting the close of the light, As the passionate kissings of Love in the Forest of Night, As the swish of the wavelets that beat on a cavernless shore, Or the cry of the sea-mew that echoes a moment or more, So the voice of thy spirit soft-calling my soul in its flight. As the breath of the wind that is borne from the island of Love, As the swift-moving cloudlets that sail in the heaven above, As the warmth of the sunlight that breaks on the shimmer- ing sea, And the sweetness that lurks in the sting of the honey- fed bee, So the joy of thy kiss, the dread offspring of serpent and dove. As the trail of the fiery lightnings which gleam in the dark, As the light from the measureless Bow of the sevenfold Arc, As the fires which glance o’er the face of the treacherous deep, When none but the furies may rest, and the nereids weep,— So thy meteor eyes, brightest sirens alluring Love's barque. When hid in the wonderful maze of thy whispering hair, Alone with the shadows and thee, and away from the glare 325