Forest Songs and Other Poems | ||
80
SNAKE-CHARM.
1
Into this dusky bowerOf sylvan quiet,
Where roses and rank vines
Only run riot,
Whence comest thou, dark Shape, at this sweet hour,
Into this lonely bower?
2
“I am the spectral formOf hopes forgotten,
Birth-strangled babes of joy
Left to grow rotten,
Corpses of unborn deeds, devoured still warm
By sloth's corrupting swarm.”
81
3
Welcome, thou dismal guest,Sit down beside me,
Lie by me all night long,
Sting me and chide me.
At dawn I'll gather fruits to lull thy rest,
Thou serpent of the breast!
Forest Songs and Other Poems | ||