AMINA.
She was the Sun's bride—such mock majesty
Her vagrant fancy took. His chosen bride;
For he had won her with one burning kiss
Pressed on her forehead, as an August noon
Stooped to the reeling vineyards.
Mad Amina!
But hers was lovely madness. Pity's self
Withheld its meed. Eyes brimful of sweet laughter,
Black hair bound up with flowers, limbs light as breezes—
Behold Amina! Flying from her kind,
She haunted rocks and caves; gentlest of all
The gentle things she dwelt among. The fawns
Her vagrant fancy took. His chosen bride;
For he had won her with one burning kiss
Pressed on her forehead, as an August noon
Stooped to the reeling vineyards.
Mad Amina!
But hers was lovely madness. Pity's self
Withheld its meed. Eyes brimful of sweet laughter,
Black hair bound up with flowers, limbs light as breezes—
Behold Amina! Flying from her kind,
She haunted rocks and caves; gentlest of all
The gentle things she dwelt among. The fawns
