A Woman's Reliquary [by Edward Dowden] |
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| LXXXIX. | LXXXIX THE NEW CIRCE |
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 | A Woman's Reliquary |  |
LXXXIX
THE NEW CIRCE
Mistress of innocent spells, your brain,
A kindlier Circe, rules my rout
Of thoughts and fancies. What a train
Gather their Queen about!
A kindlier Circe, rules my rout
Of thoughts and fancies. What a train
Gather their Queen about!
Smile at their awkward gambolling
With queenly-humorous, wise regard;
And let them fling and spring and cling,
Your rabble, ounce and pard.
With queenly-humorous, wise regard;
And let them fling and spring and cling,
Your rabble, ounce and pard.
Praise their quaint fawnings if you can,
Or pierce at once through the disguise,
Their thwarted gestures tell of man,
And human are their eyes.
Or pierce at once through the disguise,
Their thwarted gestures tell of man,
And human are their eyes.
| A Woman's Reliquary | |