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42
IN SUMMER
The blown spray of the breaking wave
That glistens through your gleaming hair
Shines underneath the blue less fair
Thou your white limbs the billows lave.
That glistens through your gleaming hair
Shines underneath the blue less fair
Thou your white limbs the billows lave.
O bather in the August sun,
To me stretched on the burning sand
Your beauty naked on the strand
Its magic mission has begun.
To me stretched on the burning sand
Your beauty naked on the strand
Its magic mission has begun.
I envy even the moment's bliss
Of each wave making towards the shore,
For ere its curling waters roar
It folds your body in a kiss.
Of each wave making towards the shore,
For ere its curling waters roar
It folds your body in a kiss.
O form now hidden in the sea,
Now as the wave recedes left bare,
O flower of flesh, O beauty rare,
Yield up thy pagan grace to me!
Now as the wave recedes left bare,
O flower of flesh, O beauty rare,
Yield up thy pagan grace to me!
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