 | The music-lesson of Confucius, And Other Poems |  |
120
ERMENGILDE.
FAR in the forest
'Mid the rocks,
His hands unwound
Her heavy locks.
In the tawny waves
They swam with bliss,
While red lips pressed
The close wet kiss.
Oh, broken leaves and withered flowers,
Ye witnesses of golden hours!
Spring up afresh, and tell to none
Why your white sides are towards the sun.
'Mid the rocks,
His hands unwound
Her heavy locks.
In the tawny waves
They swam with bliss,
While red lips pressed
The close wet kiss.
Oh, broken leaves and withered flowers,
Ye witnesses of golden hours!
Spring up afresh, and tell to none
Why your white sides are towards the sun.
Beneath the vines,
Where none could hear,
Vines seem too human
Creeping near;
Awed with their secret
Dread-confessed,
Yet both half-lost
In being bless'd.
Oh, river swimming to the sea,
Our death-pall thou shouldst quickly be,
If one in all the world could dream
That we had kissed beside thy stream.
Where none could hear,
Vines seem too human
Creeping near;
Awed with their secret
Dread-confessed,
Yet both half-lost
In being bless'd.
Oh, river swimming to the sea,
Our death-pall thou shouldst quickly be,
If one in all the world could dream
That we had kissed beside thy stream.
| The music-lesson of Confucius, And Other Poems | |