Tints of rose-pearl and amber. Never storm
To shatter her frail refuge would be bold.
—Or else, an Indian sprite with tawny cheek,
With locks of fine-spun copper, and with eyes
Of melting topaz might a shelter seek
From fierce pursuit of tiger-butterflies.
Such urgent loveliness as yours must speak
Of beauty greater still that hidden lies.
To shatter her frail refuge would be bold.
—Or else, an Indian sprite with tawny cheek,
With locks of fine-spun copper, and with eyes
Of melting topaz might a shelter seek
From fierce pursuit of tiger-butterflies.
Such urgent loveliness as yours must speak
Of beauty greater still that hidden lies.
PENTHESILEA
Achilles knelt beside the dying girl
Unclasped her helm and lower stooped to note
The spent breath fluttering in her lissome throat
More vainly than a moth's wings beat and whirl
Within the hollow, faintly veined pearl
Of the moon-orchid—her fast glazing eyes
And orbed therein those huge, unclouded skies—
One hand outflung with fingertips acurl
Against the glowing sand. The victor wept
To think upon the slow and awful change
That soon must overtake that golden head
Nor marked he how the lean Thersites crept
Nearer and mocked him—only thought what strange
Intolerable joy to love the dead.
Unclasped her helm and lower stooped to note
The spent breath fluttering in her lissome throat
More vainly than a moth's wings beat and whirl
Within the hollow, faintly veined pearl
Of the moon-orchid—her fast glazing eyes
And orbed therein those huge, unclouded skies—
One hand outflung with fingertips acurl
Against the glowing sand. The victor wept
To think upon the slow and awful change
That soon must overtake that golden head
Nor marked he how the lean Thersites crept
Nearer and mocked him—only thought what strange
Intolerable joy to love the dead.
THE TUILERIES IN MARCH
Around the fountain's rim the stone gods wear
A milder aspect. Even Father Nile
Has smoothed his rugged features to a smile
The sturdy godlings clutching at his hair
A milder aspect. Even Father Nile
Has smoothed his rugged features to a smile
The sturdy godlings clutching at his hair
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