 | East and west : the discovery of America and other poems |  |
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KARMA.
You never will give me the credit
For half of the passion I feel.
My manner was cool when I said it.
You mistook my refusal to kneel.
Well, the master of courtlier phrases
You may have for a beck of your hand.
But I never shall sell you my praises,
And I mean when I woo you—to stand.
For half of the passion I feel.
My manner was cool when I said it.
You mistook my refusal to kneel.
Well, the master of courtlier phrases
You may have for a beck of your hand.
But I never shall sell you my praises,
And I mean when I woo you—to stand.
What on earth is the use of a lover
With rose-scented kerchief and breath?
Is he bagged like a bevy of plover?
Will he swear to adore you till death?
Ah, till death!—He 's a coward, my mistress!
It is death he should first have defied!
Here I claim you through eons of histories
Incarnate forever my bride!
With rose-scented kerchief and breath?
Is he bagged like a bevy of plover?
Will he swear to adore you till death?
Ah, till death!—He 's a coward, my mistress!
It is death he should first have defied!
Here I claim you through eons of histories
Incarnate forever my bride!
Can you dimly remember, I wonder,
On the tremulous breast of the Nile,
How once you committed a blunder?
How your captain was won by a smile?
How you lay in a bower of spices,
And maddened his eyes with your charms,
Till, praying forgiveness of Isis,
He sank in your passionate arms?
On the tremulous breast of the Nile,
How once you committed a blunder?
How your captain was won by a smile?
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And maddened his eyes with your charms,
Till, praying forgiveness of Isis,
He sank in your passionate arms?
Well, I clearly recall you at Florence,—
'T was a cycle of centuries after,—
How you faced me with eye of abhorrence,
How you stormed at the scorn of my laughter,
When you reckoned in impotent fashion
I would welcome you back to my cottage;
You, who bartered a genuine passion
For a mess of the ducal pottage!
'T was a cycle of centuries after,—
How you faced me with eye of abhorrence,
How you stormed at the scorn of my laughter,
When you reckoned in impotent fashion
I would welcome you back to my cottage;
You, who bartered a genuine passion
For a mess of the ducal pottage!
O, I'm fickle? No doubt, since you know it!
Each honey-sweet blossom to enter
Perhaps is becoming a poet,
To revolve as a disc on its centre.
But the heart of a sphere has no motion.
'T is an ultimate atom, serene
As the depths of a turbulent ocean.—
That heart I reserve for my queen.
Each honey-sweet blossom to enter
Perhaps is becoming a poet,
To revolve as a disc on its centre.
But the heart of a sphere has no motion.
'T is an ultimate atom, serene
As the depths of a turbulent ocean.—
That heart I reserve for my queen.
There, how would you like me to woo you?
Shall I prate of the wonders of science?
Shall I come with a summons to sue you,
Just to see your eyes sparkle defiance?
Shall I buy you an exquisite jewel?
Shall I swear to obey your behest?
Shall I damn you as icy and cruel,
Then weep like a fool on your breast?
Shall I prate of the wonders of science?
Shall I come with a summons to sue you,
Just to see your eyes sparkle defiance?
Shall I buy you an exquisite jewel?
Shall I swear to obey your behest?
Shall I damn you as icy and cruel,
Then weep like a fool on your breast?
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No doubt you deserve all my damning!
I only wish you would damn me,
And be done with this pitiful shamming.
I would like you as fierce and as free
As a tigress, as supple and fearless,
To dare you, and hold you, and shake you;
Or a Mexican mustang peerless.—
I swear I would mount you, and break you!
I only wish you would damn me,
And be done with this pitiful shamming.
I would like you as fierce and as free
As a tigress, as supple and fearless,
To dare you, and hold you, and shake you;
Or a Mexican mustang peerless.—
I swear I would mount you, and break you!
Nay; I'll pluck you a star from its setting,
And fling it with scorn at your feet.
I'll exasperate Mars with my fretting
Till he lend you the glow of his heat.
Then I'll come like a double-ringed Saturn;
And congeal you with polar embrace
Till you spit in your rage at the pattern
My frost shall imprint on your face.
And fling it with scorn at your feet.
I'll exasperate Mars with my fretting
Till he lend you the glow of his heat.
Then I'll come like a double-ringed Saturn;
And congeal you with polar embrace
Till you spit in your rage at the pattern
My frost shall imprint on your face.
Ah, enough! For I dare you to sever
That intricate fabric of meshes
You have woven for once and forever.
No cycle of spirits or fleshes
Can stay that insidious leaven.
It draws us like Fate to its level.
I will lie on your bosom in heaven;—
Or, you'll go with me to the devil!
That intricate fabric of meshes
You have woven for once and forever.
No cycle of spirits or fleshes
Can stay that insidious leaven.
It draws us like Fate to its level.
I will lie on your bosom in heaven;—
Or, you'll go with me to the devil!
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