Whenever I see you pass, dear indolent one, Amidst the surge of music in breaking waves, Dangling your somnolent and slow allure, Flaunting the ennui of your moody gaze, When under the yellow gaslights I observe Your pale forehead in a delicate artifice Of torches that kindle an illusive dawn, And your eyes like a portrait's cryptic glance entice, I muse: How lovely she is, how fresh, bizarre! The massive tower of memory looms above And regally crowns her. Bruised as a fallen peach, Her heart is ripe as her body for subtlest love. I think of mellowed savors of autumn fruit, A burial urn no rite of tears yet showers, Scents that evoke the distant oases of dreams, Caressing pillows, harvests of gathered flowers. I know there are eyes like wells of melancholy That hold no secrets rich as our surmise, Jewelless coffers, locket-reliquaries, Deeper and emptier than yourselves, O Skies! Shall not the semblance alone suffice for me, To rejoice my heart, since Verity I forswore? What matters stupidity or indifference? Hail, mask, dear counterfeit! I bow, adore! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CUDDLE DOON by ALEXANDER ANDERSON BIANCA AMONG THE NIGHTINGALES by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE SOLSEQUIUM by ALEXANDER MONTGOMERIE THE REAR-GUARD by SIEGFRIED SASSOON E TENEBRIS [FROM THE SHADOWS] by OSCAR WILDE |