 | In the Dorian Mood |  |
68
CONFESSION
Because she spoke no word, but parted wide
Her tantalising lips, and ‘ces yeux verts,’
Which the romantic poet Baudelaire
Would have held half divine, methought I spied
A fault in her; methought she gently tried
To scout my love with smiling sedulous care,
For that her fancy had gone otherwhere,
And I had grown a shadow at her side.
Her tantalising lips, and ‘ces yeux verts,’
Which the romantic poet Baudelaire
Would have held half divine, methought I spied
A fault in her; methought she gently tried
To scout my love with smiling sedulous care,
For that her fancy had gone otherwhere,
And I had grown a shadow at her side.
So long I begged her in my desperate fear
For one kind word, one sigh, one tremulous breath.
‘An you be shy, sweet, whisper in mine ear!’
I said in anguish. Then quite suddenly
She spake out loud:—‘I have given my love to thee:
Nothing shall change it till the change of Death!’
For one kind word, one sigh, one tremulous breath.
69
I said in anguish. Then quite suddenly
She spake out loud:—‘I have given my love to thee:
Nothing shall change it till the change of Death!’
| In the Dorian Mood | |