V
Like one great opal on the breast of Night,
Soft and translucent, hangs the orb of June!
I hear wild pipings of a joyous tune
Played on a golden reed for the delight
Of you, my hidden, lovely Eremite—
You by the fountain from the marble hewn—
You silent as in dream, with flowers strewn
About your feet—you goddess, robed in white!
Mute and amazed, I at the broken wall
Lean fearful, lest the sudden, dreadful dawn
For me Diana's awful doom let fall;
And I be cursed with curious Action,
Save that you find in me this strong defence—
My adoration of your innocence.
VI
When from the rose-mist of creation grew
God's patient waiting in your wide-set eyes,
The morning stars, and all the host that flies
On wings of love, paused at the wondrous blue
With which the Master, mindful of the hue,
Stained first the crystal dome of summer skies;
And afterward the violet that vies
With amethyst, before He fashioned you.
And I have trembled with those ancient stars;
My heart has known the flame-winged seraphs' song;
For no indifferent, dreamy eyelid bars
Me from the blue, nor veils with lashes long
Your love, that to my tender gazing grows
Bold to confess it: I am glad he knows!
VII
There came three wise men riding from the east;
One was a king and brought a gift of gold;
And one bore frankincense that fate foretold;
While myrrh was offered by a mitred priest.
Nor ever hath Love's brave adventure ceased
Since that fair night ashine with stars and cold,
When even angels paused their wings to fold—
Love to adore made one with man and beast.