Orchids : Poems by Theodore Wratislaw |
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THE MIRROR TO THE BEAUTY |
 | Orchids |  |
43
THE MIRROR TO THE BEAUTY
Fair face with curved lips bursting amorous-red!
Grow never old nor faded! I who scan
The tall limbs white desired by many a man,
Would flash not back the glint of thy bright head
Wert thou discrowned of youth for ever fled:
Nay, rather, when his hungering kisses span
Thy throat, like some love-murdered courtesan,
Fall in thy youth and regal beauty dead.
Grow never old nor faded! I who scan
The tall limbs white desired by many a man,
Would flash not back the glint of thy bright head
Wert thou discrowned of youth for ever fled:
Nay, rather, when his hungering kisses span
Thy throat, like some love-murdered courtesan,
Fall in thy youth and regal beauty dead.
Not in my green and tranquil lake shall show
Thy gold-red hair grown faded, or thy face
Beseamed by time's dread wrinkles set arow,
For I have seen your nude limbs' sinuous grace
Flower-red with passion at his step below,
And of your love the fiery first embrace!
Thy gold-red hair grown faded, or thy face
Beseamed by time's dread wrinkles set arow,
For I have seen your nude limbs' sinuous grace
Flower-red with passion at his step below,
And of your love the fiery first embrace!
| Orchids | |