 | The Ballad of Babie Bell And Other Poems |  |
114
[Now, if the muses held me not in scorn]
Now, if the muses held me not in scorn,I'd shape a poem, perfect, fair and round
As that thin band of gold wherewith I bound
Your slender finger our betrothal morn;
And in the circuit of this faultless rhyme
I'd place the dear initials of your name—
Three koh-i-noors to glisten for all time!
So would I lift my finger, and make fame
Couch, like that well bred mastiff at your feet
Lapping your hand with dangerous tenderness.
And such a magic should this song possess,
Maidens would wear it, like a musk-pouch, sweet,
Upon their pinkish bosoms, night and day,
To keep foul dreams and untrue loves away.
| The Ballad of Babie Bell And Other Poems | |