That fawn-skin-dappled hair of hers,
And the blue eye
Dear and dewy,
And that infantine fresh air of hers!
To think men cannot take you, Sweet,
And enfold you,
Ay, and hold you,
And so keep you what they make you, Sweet!
You like us for a...
|
|
Let's contend no more, Love, What so wild as words are? See the creature stalking |
She should never have looked at me |
So, I shall see her in three days |
|
Escape me? |
I wonder do you feel today For me, I touched a thought, I know, |
The gray sea and the long black land; And the yellow half-moon large and low; And the startled little waves that leap In fiery ringlets from their sleep, As I gain the cove with pushing prow, And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.... |
Room after room, |
|
I said--Then, dearest, since 'tis so, |
La pluie fit tôt son entrée ce soir, La furtive Porphyria qui entrait ; aussitôt |