Literary Monthly, 1905.
ON THE "CHANT D'AMOUR" OF BURNE-JONES
ROGER SHERMAN LOOMIS '09
Mysterious damozel in white,
White like the swans that glide upon the pool below,
Who art thou that with fingers light
Playest upon those ivory keys such music low?
O winged youth in dreamful thought,
With eyelids weighed with utter sweetness, who art thou,
With garments by the breezes caught,
Whose hands with drowsy motion ply the bellows now?
The youth and damsel answer not.
But thou, O listening knight-at-arms, thou mayest tell
Who are these minstrels mild, and what
The strains that here outside this quiet city swell.
The youth with languid moving wrist
In puissance may with any of the gods compare;
No marvel thou must stay and list,
For 'tis the Song of Love breathes on the evening air.
Know by the calm her lips disclose,
By the fine shades and faery lustre of her eyes,
The damsel is the queen of those
Whose names are written Beatrice in Paradise.
While yon still towers in sunset lie,
Her face oblivious of all else I'll ponder long.
My body thrills with ecstasy!
My heart beats with the rhythmic pulsing of the song!
Literary Monthly, 1906.