 | Dirge for Aoine and other poems |  |
xv
OCTOBER
I 'm shod with mist and crowned with fire;
I wear the opal of desire.
As grey as water is my gown,
That rustles over leaves grown brown.
I wear the opal of desire.
As grey as water is my gown,
That rustles over leaves grown brown.
Above my head the kestrels hang,
The wild geese go with whirr and clang
Of passing wings, the plovers cry
Above me in a yellow sky.
The wild geese go with whirr and clang
Of passing wings, the plovers cry
Above me in a yellow sky.
I have the Scorpion for my star,
And all fair things my kindred are,
All dreams too sweet for man to bear,
All visions builded of despair.
And all fair things my kindred are,
All dreams too sweet for man to bear,
All visions builded of despair.
I am a queen, yet govern none
That laughs or weeps beneath the sun.
I wear the opal and I wear
The desert sands amid my hair.
That laughs or weeps beneath the sun.
I wear the opal and I wear
The desert sands amid my hair.
| Dirge for Aoine and other poems | |