LVI
I dreamed a dream of fields vivid with Spring,
Strown o’er with scentless flowers of fleckless white
Which said: “We are thy youth’s first loves!” Aright
They seemed to me as snow upon the Spring.
This dream passed. Next into Doom’s Land I swing,
Before from the abyss there rose to sight
One giant amorous lily, black as night—
A flame of ebony the days there bring.
The Doom-Pit and the lily were as one.
I dropped down their entangling, dim twilight,
In sable petals folded deep as night,
Dreaming how once you said to me, Dear One,
When eagerly you leaned my hair to kiss—
“Your eyes are a black dangerous abyss!”