O singer of Persephone! In the dim meadows desolate Dost thou remember Sicily?

singer

Still through the ivy flits the bee Where Amaryllis lies in state; O Singer of Persephone!

Simætha calls on Hecate And hears the wild dogs at the gate; Dost thou remember Sicily?

Still by the light and laughing sea Poor Polypheme bemoans his fate; O Singer of Persephone!

And still in boyish rivalry Young Daphnis challenges his mate; Dost thou remember Sicily?

Slim Lacon keeps a goat for thee, For thee the jocund shepherds wait; O Singer of Persephone! Dost thou remember Sicily?

p. 139IN THE GOLD ROOM

p. 139

A HARMONY

A HARMONY

Her ivory hands on the ivory keys Strayed in a fitful fantasy, Like the silver gleam when the poplar trees Rustle their pale-leaves listlessly, Or the drifting foam of a restless sea When the waves show their teeth in the flying breeze.

Her

Her gold hair fell on the wall of gold Like the delicate gossamer tangles spun On the burnished disk of the marigold, Or the sunflower turning to meet the sun When the gloom of the dark blue night is done, And the spear of the lily is aureoled.

And her sweet red lips on these lips of mine Burned like the ruby fire set In the swinging lamp of a crimson shrine, Or the bleeding wounds of the pomegranate, Or the heart of the lotus drenched and wet With the spilt-out blood of the rose-red wine.

p. 140BALLADE DE MARGUERITE

p. 140

(NORMANDE)

NORMANDE

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