THE CARIB SEA
Mortal heedeth
Him, whose breath of poison speedeth
Them that chafe the elfin king.
VII
Moths above, that feed on dew,
Flit their wings of gold and blue,—
Fancy guesses
These must be the court-princesses:
Others are in durance pent,
Changed to orchids for their tricks,—
Wantons they, who must remain
All day long in beauteous pain
Till stern Oberon relent,
Pardon grant, and seal affix.
Each repineth
Thus until the monarch dineth
And, content, doth loose her chain.
VIII
Would you had the fine, fine ear
The dragonfly's recall to hear,—
Tiny words
Of the vibrant hummingbirds
That, where bloom convolvuli,
Round the dew-cups whir and hover,
Thrusting each, hour after hour,
His keen bill to heart o' the flower,
As some mounted knight may ply
His long lance, an eager lover,
Through deep sedges,
And athrough the coppice edges,
Fain to reach his lady's bower.
IX
Whilst the emerald lancers poise
In the soft air without noise,
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