Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold By "F. Harald Williams"[i.e. F. W. O. Ward]. First Edition |
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ANGELICA. |
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 | Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold |  |
ANGELICA.
Eyes of yellow—
Nay, soft hazel dashed with gold,
Each a pleased and perfect fellow
To the light of love untold;
Lips as mellow
With their warm delicious red,
As God makes them and man takes them
For his own and bridal bed.
Shy,
And delicate—O yes,
With each action a caress;
Beautiful and maidenly,
Made for many to implore
And for someone to adore;
With no movement not improvement,
On the grace that went before.
Nay, soft hazel dashed with gold,
Each a pleased and perfect fellow
To the light of love untold;
Lips as mellow
With their warm delicious red,
As God makes them and man takes them
For his own and bridal bed.
Shy,
And delicate—O yes,
With each action a caress;
Beautiful and maidenly,
454
And for someone to adore;
With no movement not improvement,
On the grace that went before.
Cheeks of roses
White, when sunset on them lies,
And the daintiest of noses
Turning to her native skies;
Form with poses
Wonderful and nice and new,
Ever shifting, ever lifting
Glories in their fresh first dew.
Hair
A tawny troubled mass,
With the gleams that glint and pass
Ere you wonder why so fair;
Shade and shine that ebb and flow,
Now in glimmer, now in glow,
And dear blushes as the flushes
On a virgin peak of snow.
White, when sunset on them lies,
And the daintiest of noses
Turning to her native skies;
Form with poses
Wonderful and nice and new,
Ever shifting, ever lifting
Glories in their fresh first dew.
Hair
A tawny troubled mass,
With the gleams that glint and pass
Ere you wonder why so fair;
Shade and shine that ebb and flow,
Now in glimmer, now in glow,
And dear blushes as the flushes
On a virgin peak of snow.
Voice of utter
Sweetness, meant to govern man,
And to shake the brazen shutter
Of his most determined plan;
Hands that flutter
Pure as kisses touched with fire,
With a quelling and compelling
Gesture that restrains desire.
Feet
That never walk but glide
As adown some singing tide,
Where the wind and water meet,
With a ripple and a rest,
All of calm and motion's zest
Mixed in marriage—theirs the carriage,
Of the true Divine and blest.
Sweetness, meant to govern man,
And to shake the brazen shutter
Of his most determined plan;
Hands that flutter
Pure as kisses touched with fire,
With a quelling and compelling
Gesture that restrains desire.
Feet
That never walk but glide
As adown some singing tide,
Where the wind and water meet,
With a ripple and a rest,
All of calm and motion's zest
Mixed in marriage—theirs the carriage,
Of the true Divine and blest.
Frock of fitting
Texture, which I dare not name,
Moulded to each fine and flitting
Turn, and more like bodied flame;
As unwitting,
It is other than a part
Of her meekness and completeness
Which need borrow nought of art.
Bust
That shelters holy things,
Broken prayers and bruised wings,
Seat of gentleness and trust;
Cold to evil, but to good
In its depth not understood,
Likest Heaven with its leaven
Of the widest womanhood.
Texture, which I dare not name,
Moulded to each fine and flitting
455
As unwitting,
It is other than a part
Of her meekness and completeness
Which need borrow nought of art.
Bust
That shelters holy things,
Broken prayers and bruised wings,
Seat of gentleness and trust;
Cold to evil, but to good
In its depth not understood,
Likest Heaven with its leaven
Of the widest womanhood.
Life of gladness
Infinite and strong and free,
But with all the joys of sadness
Which have been and yet shall be;
Conquering madness
And the moods of wayward will,
By her fences' innocences,
Ere they darken into ill.
Love
As light that garments her,
Like a silver gossamer
Spun in sacred courts above;
Blossoming in every deed,
And at heart the secret seed
Of the duty done, a beauty
Better than the proudest creed.
Infinite and strong and free,
But with all the joys of sadness
Which have been and yet shall be;
Conquering madness
And the moods of wayward will,
By her fences' innocences,
Ere they darken into ill.
Love
As light that garments her,
Like a silver gossamer
Spun in sacred courts above;
Blossoming in every deed,
And at heart the secret seed
Of the duty done, a beauty
Better than the proudest creed.
| Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold | |