A DREAM SHAPE
With moon-white hearts that held a gleam
I gathered wildflowers in a dream,
And shaped a woman, whose sweet blood
Was odor of the wildwood bud.
From dew, the starlight arrowed through,
I wrought a woman’s eyes of blue;
The lids that on her eyeballs lay
Were rose-pale petals of the May.
Out of a rosebud’s veins I drew
The fragrant crimson beating through
The languid lips of her, whose kiss
Was as a poppy’s drowsiness.
Out of the moonlight and the air
I wrought the glory of her hair,
That o’er her eyes’ blue heaven lay
Like some gold cloud o’er dawn of day.
My spirit saw her pass [Page 432]
A Dream Shape