Читать книгу Summer of Love онлайн
4 страница из 9
And so, my love, I cannot help but love her
Although my life and love belong to you.
IN FAIRYLAND
ssss1
The fairy poet takes a sheet
Of moonbeam, silver white,
His ink is dew from daisies sweet,
His pen a point of light.
My love, I know is fairer far
Than his, (though she is fair,)
And we should dwell where fairies are
For I could praise her there.
THE SORROWS OF KING MIDAS
ssss1
King Midas took delight
In golden vessels bright,
And yellow bars of ore he found most fair;
But he had never seen
The dancing, glancing sheen
Of sunlight on your dark and fragrant hair.
His wealth could buy him wine
Made from the purple vine
And sweet as all the blossom-breathing South;
But he could never slake
His thirst, nor ease the ache
Of his hot lips at your love-pliant mouth.
SLENDER YOUR HANDS
ssss1
Slender your hands and soft and white
As petals of moon-kissed roses;
Yet the grasp of your fingers slight
My passionate heart encloses.
Innocent eyes like delicate spheres
That are born when day is dying;