XXXV.
THE STATUE.
1
She lieth bare, in unveil'd loveliness,
Yet nothing naked; for the perfect charm
Of beauty and of symmetry doth dress
Her figure in a raiment bright and warm—
A garb most spiritual, which doth repress
The sensual eye of sense: with one fair arm
She leaneth on a pillow, softly sinking,
And her sweet face upturns, to some voluptuous thinking.
2
The other, bending with a rainbow grace,
Plays with the hindmost tresses of her hair,
Over her shoulder—Oh! that love-toned face!
It beams a passionate pleasure on the air,
And makes us crave some silent dwelling-place,
To gaze and live on it for ever there!
A love-thought stirs her mouth; and o'er her eyes
Appears the memory of a thousand sighs.
3
Her rich-swell'd bosom, toward her white couch turn'd,
Spell-takes the eye-lids; and her limbs, extended
In animate perfection, are discern'd,
In all the harmony of structure blended,
Pressing each other's beauty: there hath burn'd
A dream of fire about her, which hath ended;
And now she looks reposing from that vision,
And from love's dream to love inviting soft transition.
