 | English Roses |  |
WILD FACE.
Wild face, beautiful and brown,
Haunting me, haunting me,
Grey eyes under their dark crown
Glancing up and glancing down,
Taunting me, taunting me!
Art thou woman, art thou witch,
Cruel as some bloodhound bitch,
Spying me, spying me;
For a cerement to stitch,
Trying me, trying me?
None conjecture what thou art.
Saving grace without a heart.
Haunting me, haunting me,
Grey eyes under their dark crown
Glancing up and glancing down,
Taunting me, taunting me!
Art thou woman, art thou witch,
Cruel as some bloodhound bitch,
Spying me, spying me;
For a cerement to stitch,
Trying me, trying me?
None conjecture what thou art.
Saving grace without a heart.
Art thou something more than air
Mocking me, mocking me,
With that wicked face so fair,
And those hands that sweetly pair,
Locking me, locking me?
Art thou, betwixt day and night,
Beauty bodied into light
Trapping me, trapping me;
With a death that is delight
Wrapping me, wrapping me?
None may hazard what thou art,
But a riddle all apart.
Mocking me, mocking me,
55
And those hands that sweetly pair,
Locking me, locking me?
Art thou, betwixt day and night,
Beauty bodied into light
Trapping me, trapping me;
With a death that is delight
Wrapping me, wrapping me?
None may hazard what thou art,
But a riddle all apart.
Bosom never to be tamed.
Schooling me, schooling me
To a passion that has flamed
Fiercely forth and unashamed,
Fooling me, fooling me!
Brow unformed of blood and flesh,
Bright hair woven to a mesh
Folding me, folding me,
Till I sin and sin afresh—
Holding me, holding me!
None may gather what thou art,
Each has felt the fatal dart!
Schooling me, schooling me
To a passion that has flamed
Fiercely forth and unashamed,
Fooling me, fooling me!
Brow unformed of blood and flesh,
Bright hair woven to a mesh
Folding me, folding me,
Till I sin and sin afresh—
Holding me, holding me!
None may gather what thou art,
Each has felt the fatal dart!
| English Roses | |