POEMS BY ISAAC ROSENBERG
Your honey spilt round that small dazzling face
Shakes me to golden tremors;
I have no life at all,
Only thin golden tremors.
Light tender beast!
Your fragile gleaming wrists
Have shaken the scaled glacier from under me,
And bored into my craft
That is now with the old dreamy Adam
With other things of dust.
Lilith
You lazy hound! See my poor child.
[He turns to see Lilith drop the bowl and cakes and run to Amak—who is crying, half stifled under Saul's huge shield.]
[Saul opens his eyes.]
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