Читать книгу Summer of Love онлайн

3 страница из 9

Brave knights who dared to scorn untoward chance.

King Arthur—Sidney—Copperfield—the daring

And friendly souls of Meredith’s bright page—

The Pilgrim on his darksome journey faring,

And Shakespeare’s heroes, great in love and rage.

Fair ladies, too—here Beatricè smiling,

Through hell leads Dante to the happy stars;

And Heloise, the cruel guards beguiling,

With Abelard makes mock of convent bars.

Yet when night comes I leave these folks with pleasure

To open Love’s great summer-scented tome,

Within whose pages—precious beyond measure—

My own White Flower Lady hath her home.

ssss1

Sometimes within the garden of your sweetness

I rest and dream and think of all the years

Before my soul had bloomed to fair completeness,

Those times of shadow-laughter, mixed with tears.

And in my dreams I see a gentle maiden

Whom I once loved and whom I still love, Sweet,

For she is like a rose with sunlight laden,

And my lips ache to kiss her little feet.

She is so pure the very sky above her

Is not so fair with all its white and blue,