Part 6 (1/2)

Mantled mists like ambushed braves, Chiefed by some swart Blackfoot tall, Stole along each forest wall-- Phosph.o.r.escent moony waves.

Then the moon rose; from some cup Each hill's bowl,--magnetic s.h.i.+ne, Mist and silence poured like wine,-- Brimmed a monster goblet up.

Ingot from lost orient mines, Delved by humpbacked gnomes of Night, Full her orb loomed, nacreous white, O'er Pine Mountain's druid pines.

As thro' fragmentary fleece Her circ.u.mference polished broke, Orey-seamed, about us woke Myths of Italy and Greece.

Then--a chanson serenade-- You, rich-voiced, to your guitar To our G.o.ddess in that star Sang ”_Ne Tempo_” from the glade.

SEnORITA.

An agate black thy roguish eyes Claim no proud lineage of skies, No velvet blue, but of sweet Earth, Rude, reckless witchery and mirth.

Looped in thy raven hair's repose, A hot aroma, one tame rose Dies envious of that beauty where,-- By being near which,--it is fair.

Thy ears,--two dainty bits of song Of unpretending charm, which wrong Would jewels rich, whose restless fire Courts coa.r.s.e attention,--such inspire.

Slim hands, that crumple listless lace About thy white b.r.e.a.s.t.s' swelling grace, And falter at thy samite throat, To such harmonious efforts float.

Seven stars stop o'er thy balcony Cored in taunt heaven's canopy; No moon flows up the satin night In pearl-pierced raiment spun of light.

From orange orchards dark in dew Vague, odorous lips the West wind blew, Or thou, a new Angelica From Ariosto, breath'd'st Cathay.

Oh, stoop to me and speaking reach My soul like song, that learned low speech From some sad instrument, who knows?

Or bloom,--a dulcimer or rose.

LEANDER TO HERO.

I.

Brows wan thro' blue-black tresses Wet with sharp rain and kisses; Locks loose the sea-wind scatters, Like torn wings fierce for flight; Cold brows, whose sadness flatters, One kiss and then--good-night.

II.

Can this thy love undo me When in the heavy waves?

Nay; it must make unto me Their groaning backs but slaves!

For its magic doth indue me With strength o'er all their graves.

III.

Weep not as heavy-hearted Before I go! For thou Wilt follow as we parted-- A something hollow-hearted, Dark eyes whence cold tears started, Gray, ghostly arms out-darted To take me, even as now, To drag me, their weak lover, To caves where sirens hover, Deep caves the dark waves cover, Down! throat and hair and brow.

IV.