 | Poems and Sonnets |  |
21
THE ECSTACY OF THE HAIR.
I'd send a troop of kisses to entangleAnd lose themselves in labyrinths of hair,
Thy deep dark night of hair with stars to spangle,
And, each a tiny fire-fly, to dangle
Amid the tresses of that forest fair;
A perfume seems to blossom into air,
The ecstacy that hangs about the tresses,
Their blush, their overflow, their breath, their bloom,
A wind that gently lifts them, and caresses,
And wings itself, and floats about the room;
My meaning this but partially expresses,
The thoughts that in me smoulder and consume,
I want to say that to my mind the hair
So wonderfully, wildly, sweetly fair
Seems, that a fancy all my soul possesses
Its ecstacy ought to blossom into perfume.
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