 | [Poems by Kilmer in] Joyce Kilmer |  |
260
BEAUTY'S HAIR
A gleam of light across the night,
I know that you are there;
The heavens show the lovely glow
Of your transcendent hair,
Your luminous, miraculous, and morning-coloured hair.
I know that you are there;
The heavens show the lovely glow
Of your transcendent hair,
Your luminous, miraculous, and morning-coloured hair.
I'll take my silver javelin
And point it with a star,
For I have vowed to climb a cloud
And reach to where you are.
My javelin's barb shall pierce your hair
And pin it to the sky,
And I will run to the island sun
Where captive you will lie,
And then I shall dare to touch your hair,
To steal a tress of your magic hair,
And bring to the world a tress of hair
And win the world thereby.
And point it with a star,
For I have vowed to climb a cloud
And reach to where you are.
My javelin's barb shall pierce your hair
And pin it to the sky,
And I will run to the island sun
Where captive you will lie,
And then I shall dare to touch your hair,
To steal a tress of your magic hair,
And bring to the world a tress of hair
And win the world thereby.
Or shall I put on a green-sea cloak
With sunset laces trimmed,
And shine so gay that the dawn will say
That her radiance is dimmed?
There never was a lover could shine more fair
Than I in my cloak will shine;
And all for the sake of your merry hair,
Your whimsical, perilous, golden hair,
Your lovely, terrible, golden hair,
More sweet than love or wine.
With sunset laces trimmed,
And shine so gay that the dawn will say
That her radiance is dimmed?
There never was a lover could shine more fair
Than I in my cloak will shine;
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Your whimsical, perilous, golden hair,
Your lovely, terrible, golden hair,
More sweet than love or wine.
A twisted bit of silver
Fell down and bruised my face.
What was it broke my broidered cloak
And tore the sunset lace?
I must be clad in sorrow
Because you are so gay,
And close my eyes if I would see
A whiter light than day.
So lofty is your golden hair,
I cannot climb to touch your hair,
I must kneel down to find your hair
Upon the trampled way.
Fell down and bruised my face.
What was it broke my broidered cloak
And tore the sunset lace?
I must be clad in sorrow
Because you are so gay,
And close my eyes if I would see
A whiter light than day.
So lofty is your golden hair,
I cannot climb to touch your hair,
I must kneel down to find your hair
Upon the trampled way.
| [Poems by Kilmer in] Joyce Kilmer | |