THE MOTHER OF MEROVEE
As with both hands she backward drew the mass
Of tawny hair that veiled her to the knee
Heavy with wet, and forward leaned to see
Mirrored as clear as in unwrinkled glass
Shoulder and bosom smooth and rosy warm,
And the sweet dimpling of her girlish throat,
The blinding azure seemed to rise and float
And dazzle toward her in a wondrous form
Of ivory and gold and chrysoprase
With fins that opalescent smote the spray,
And locks that outward spreading hotly flamed
Against the paler sunlight, and a face
Of fierce inhuman beauty. Flee away?
Too late—she waited shrinking and ashamed.
Of tawny hair that veiled her to the knee
Heavy with wet, and forward leaned to see
Mirrored as clear as in unwrinkled glass
Shoulder and bosom smooth and rosy warm,
And the sweet dimpling of her girlish throat,
The blinding azure seemed to rise and float
And dazzle toward her in a wondrous form
Of ivory and gold and chrysoprase
With fins that opalescent smote the spray,
And locks that outward spreading hotly flamed
Against the paler sunlight, and a face
Of fierce inhuman beauty. Flee away?
Too late—she waited shrinking and ashamed.