Orval, or The Fool of Time And Other Imitations and Paraphrases. By Robert Lytton |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. | VI.A SOUL'S SWEETNESS. |
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| XIV. |
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| XVI. |
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| XX. |
| XXI. |
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| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
 | Orval, or The Fool of Time |  |
VI.A SOUL'S SWEETNESS.
He.O maiden of my soul!
What odour from the orange hast thou stole,
That breathes about thy breast with such sweet power?
What sweetness, unto me
More sweet than amber honey to the bee
That builds i' the oaken bole,
And sucks the essential summer of the year
To store with sweetest sweets her hollow tower?
Or is it breath of basil, maiden dear?
Or of the immortal flower?
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By the sweet heavens, young lover!
No odour from the orange have I stole;
Nor have I robb'd for thee,
Dearest, the amber dower
Of the building bee,
From any hollow tower
In oaken bole:
But if, on this poor breast thou dost discover
Fragrance of such sweet power,
Trust me, O my belovèd and my lover,
'Tis not of basil, nor the immortal flower,
But from a virgin soul.
| Orval, or The Fool of Time | |