 | Poems and Sonnets |  |
28
THE HANDMAIDEN WITH THE GREEN GREEN EYES.
I
“Oh, that handmaiden with the green green eyes!”So wept a youth within the palace-gate
Where Poesy herself in cumbrous state
Sat with a chin uplifted to the skies,
“Oh, sweet handmaiden, where art thou?” he cries,
“My love is wasted on this dame sedate,
That I had held thee fast! too late! too late!”
Even so his tearful shrieks incessant rise;
For Poesy had sent a maiden fair
Unto the portals of her lordly dome,
The golden pillars of her palace-home,
To lead the singer whom she would ensnare,
But on the way down came the maiden's hair
Through sudden slip of untrustworthy comb,
30
II
And he, poor poet, had to bind it fastAgain as she threw back her gentle head
Tossing the sweet brown tresses freely shed
Over her shoulders his pale fingers past,
And, as he did it, he forgot the vast
And solemn Goddess unto whom she led
The way, and loved her messenger instead,
And all his heart into his hands he cast;
And therefore in an agony he tries
To break in twain the lyre that before
His fervent touch, caressing, would adore,
And low upon the bitter marble lies,
Sobbing towards the unsympathizing floor
“That sweet hand-maiden with the green green eyes!”
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