How like a shower of moonlight-crusted beams
Of textile form compact, whose veins run stars,—
Discovered goddess of what naked loves!—
Maiden of dreams and aromatic sleep,
Thou liest. Thy long instrument against
Thy god-voluptuous sensuousness of hip
Pure iridescent pearl of ocean slopes:
Tempestuous silent color-melodies
Pulse glimmering from it beaten by the moon,—
Soft songs the white hands of white shadows touch.—