At The Lily's Heart

Within me (roguish brother!) lives a faun Demure as any whom Arcadian bees Made drowsy with their murmur, or the sea's Far thunder woke on some Illyrian dawn; And he the blue-eyed dryad on the lawn Would fain allure with woodland sorceries, But thou shalt see him on his bended knees, O goddess by the bitter years withdrawn! Lo! Passion here puts by her scarlet wreath, And yet abideth Passion. In thy kiss Nobility and rapture blend their hues As stars might fashion in the flowers beneath A symbol of my worship and its bliss, Enmirrored for a night in earthly dews.