Where is it now, your proud austerity?
Your frugal folly of virginity?
You are no longer free, for you belong
To every lilting cadence of my song.
You, who despised the fripperies of rhyme,
Who flouted space, and disregarded time,
Who thought each lovely folly was a crime—
Unlit, implacable and yet sublime!
Your frugal folly of virginity?
You are no longer free, for you belong
To every lilting cadence of my song.
You, who despised the fripperies of rhyme,
Who flouted space, and disregarded time,
Who thought each lovely folly was a crime—
Unlit, implacable and yet sublime!
Now that you're dead, now I can warm you with
The glowing weavings of a gleaming myth;
Into your peace I'll plunge a thousand swords
Of burning phantasies and coloured words.
I'll show no mercy now that you are mine,
Your very self dissolved in my design.
The glowing weavings of a gleaming myth;
Into your peace I'll plunge a thousand swords
Of burning phantasies and coloured words.
I'll show no mercy now that you are mine,
Your very self dissolved in my design.
29
