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II.—THE IMMEASURABLE ROSE.
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211

II.—THE IMMEASURABLE ROSE.

The hair of Venus woven with soft sprays
Allured me, wondering as it downward slid
Slowly and half her fragrant body hid,
So that the tender white shone through an haze.
Here was a red rose twined in subtle ways—
There a white rose of flesh that gleamed unbid—
No rose as those impassioned roses did,
Enamoured—fondly they besought the gaze.
Ever before me shines this vision high:
The endless hope it leads to no man knows,
Its splendour has not perished, though I die—
Still in the deep heart of each poet glows
Venus—and still her tresses wander by,
Circled with the immeasurable rose.