She dreams of Love upon the temple stair,— About her feet the lithe green lizards play In all the drowsy, warm, Sicilian air. The winds have loosed the fillet from her hair, Sea winds, salt-lipped, that laugh and seem to say, “She dreams of Love, upon the temple stair. “Then let us twine soft fingers, here and there, Amid the gleaming threads that drift and stray In all the drowsy, warm, Sicilian air, “And let us weave of them a subtle snare To cast about and bind her, as to-day She dreams of Love, upon the temple stair.” Alas, the madcap winds,—how much they dare! They wove the web, and in their wanton way, In all the drowsy, Sicilian air, They bound her sleeping, in her own bright hair. And as she slept came Love—and passed away,— She dreams of Love, upon the temple stair, In all the drowsy, warm, Sicilian air.
A Sleeping Priestess of Aphrodite
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