White dust of talcum on her arms, and looked So lovingly upon her tense straight breasts, Touching them under with soft tapering hands To blue eyes deepening like a brazier flame Turned by a sudden gust. Who gives her these, The thought ran through me, for her joy alone And not for mine? So I stood there like Zeus Coming in thunder to Semele, like The diety of Watteau. Correggio Had never painted me a satyr there Drinking her beauty in, so worshipful, My will subdued in worship of her beauty To obey her will. And then she turned and saw me, And faced me in her nakedness, nor tried To hide it from me, faced me immovable A Mona Lisa smile upon her lips. And let me plead my cause, make known my love, Speak out my torture, wearing still the smile. Let me approach her till I almost touched The whiteness of her bosom. Then it seemed That smile of hers not wilting me she clapped Hands over eyes and said: "I am afraid— Oh no, it cannot be—what would they say?" Then rushing in the bathroom, quick she slammed The door and shrieked: "You scoundrel, go—you beast." My dream went up like paper charred and whirled Above a hearth. Thrilling I stood alone Amid her room and saw my life, our life Embodied in this woman lately there Lying and cowardly. And as I turned To leave the room, her father and the gardener Pounced on me, threw me down a flight of stairs And turned me over, stunned, to you the law Here with these others who have stolen coal To keep them warm, as I have stolen beauty To keep from freezing in this arid country Of winter winds on which the dust of custom Rides like a fog. Now do your worst to me!
THE LANDSCAPE
You and your landscape! There it lies Stripped, resuming its disguise, Clothed in dreams, made bare again, Symbol infinite of pain, Rapture, magic, mystery Of vanished days and days to be. There's its sea of tidal grass Over which the south winds pass, And the sun-set's Tuscan gold Which the distant windows hold For an instant like a sphere Bursting ere it disappear. There's the dark green woods which throve In the spell of Leese's Grove. And the winding of the road; And the hill o'er which the sky Stretched its pallied vacancy Ere the dawn or evening glowed. And the wonder of the town
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