of the crescent shapes beneath:

I thought:

between cloth and fleece,

so her body lies.)

I worship first, the great—

(ah, sweet, your eyes—

what God, invoked in Crete,

gave them the gift to part

as the Sidonian myrtle-flower

suddenly, wide and swart,

then swiftly,

the eye-lids having provoked our hearts—

as suddenly beat and close.)

I worship the feet, flawless,

that haunt the hills—

(ah, sweet, dare I think,

beneath fetter of golden clasp,

of the rhythm, the fall and rise

of yours, carven, slight

beneath straps of gold that keep

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