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THE GLORY AND THE DREAM |
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 | The poems of Madison Cawein |  |
501
THE GLORY AND THE DREAM
There in the past I see her as of old,
Blue-eyed and hazel-haired, within a room
Dim with a twilight of tenebrious gold;
Her white face sensuous as a delicate bloom
Night opens in the tropics. Fold on fold
Pale laces drape her; and a frail perfume,
As of a moonlit lily brimmed with rain,
Breathes from her presence, drowsing heart and brain.
Blue-eyed and hazel-haired, within a room
Dim with a twilight of tenebrious gold;
Her white face sensuous as a delicate bloom
Night opens in the tropics. Fold on fold
Pale laces drape her; and a frail perfume,
As of a moonlit lily brimmed with rain,
Breathes from her presence, drowsing heart and brain.
Her head is bent; some red carnations glow
Deep in her heavy hair; her large eyes gleam;—
Bright sister stars of those twin worlds of snow,
Her breasts, through which the veinéd violets stream.—
I hold her hand; her smile comes sweetly slow
As thoughts of love that haunt a poet's dream:
And at her feet once more I sit and hear
Wild words of passion—dead this many a year.
Deep in her heavy hair; her large eyes gleam;—
Bright sister stars of those twin worlds of snow,
Her breasts, through which the veinéd violets stream.—
I hold her hand; her smile comes sweetly slow
As thoughts of love that haunt a poet's dream:
And at her feet once more I sit and hear
Wild words of passion—dead this many a year.
| The poems of Madison Cawein | |