Here is suggested the seventh stage: Loss of Youthful Bashfulness.

One unanointed curl still frets her cheek
When tossed by sighs that burn her blossom-lip;
And still she yearns, and still her yearnings seek
That we might be united though in sleep—
Ah! Happy dreams come not to brides that ever weep.


XXIX

Here is suggested the eighth stage: Absent-mindedness. For if she were not absent-minded, she would arrange the braid so as not to be annoyed by it.

Her single tight-bound braid she pushes oft—
With a hand uncared for in her lonely madness—
So rough it seems, from the cheek that is so soft:
That braid ungarlanded since the first day's sadness,
Which I shall loose again when troubles end in gladness.


XXX

Here is suggested the ninth stage: Prostration. The tenth stage, Death, is not suggested.

The delicate body, weak and suffering,
Quite unadorned and tossing to and fro
In oft-renewing wretchedness, will wring
Even from thee a raindrop-tear, I know—
Soft breasts like thine are pitiful to others' woe.


XXXI

I know her bosom full of love for me,
And therefore fancy how her soul doth grieve
In this our first divorce; it cannot be
Self-flattery that idle boastings weave—
Soon shalt thou see it all, and seeing, shalt believe.


XXXII

Quivering of the eyelids

Her hanging hair prevents the twinkling shine
Of fawn-eyes that forget their glances sly,
Lost to the friendly aid of rouge and wine—
Yet the eyelids quiver when thou drawest nigh
As water-lilies do when fish go scurrying by.


XXXIII

and trembling of the limbs are omens of speedy union with the beloved.

And limbs that thrill to thee thy welcome prove,
Limbs fair as stems in some rich plantain-bower,
No longer showing marks of my rough love,
Robbed of their cooling pearls by fatal power,
The limbs which I was wont to soothe in passion's hour.


XXXIV

But if she should be lost in happy sleep,
Wait, bear with her, grant her but three hours' grace,
And thunder not, O cloud, but let her keep
The dreaming vision of her lover's face—
Loose not too soon the imagined knot of that embrace.


XXXV

As thou wouldst wake the jasmine's budding wonder,
Wake her with breezes blowing mistily;
Conceal thy lightnings, and with words of thunder
Speak boldly, though she answer haughtily
With eyes that fasten on the lattice and on thee.


XXXVI