 | Poems |  |
285
A FLIRTED FAN
A flirted fan of blade and gold
Is wondrous winsome to behold:
It seems an armoured shard to bear
The Emperor-Scarab—strange and rare,
Metallic, lustrous, jewel-cold.
Fawning and fluttering fold on fold
And scale on scale, its charm unrolled,
Lures, dazzles, slays. It thrills the air,
A flirted fan!
Is wondrous winsome to behold:
It seems an armoured shard to bear
The Emperor-Scarab—strange and rare,
Metallic, lustrous, jewel-cold.
Fawning and fluttering fold on fold
And scale on scale, its charm unrolled,
Lures, dazzles, slays. It thrills the air,
A flirted fan!
Ah me, that night . . . I cannot scold—
Ich grolle nicht! My grief untold
Shall still remain, but I will swear
Some Spanish grace, dissembled there
Stood by her stall, she so controlled
A flirted fan.
Ich grolle nicht! My grief untold
Shall still remain, but I will swear
Some Spanish grace, dissembled there
Stood by her stall, she so controlled
A flirted fan.
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