| WHEN my arms wrap you round I press | |
| My heart upon the loveliness | |
| That has long faded from the world; | |
| The jewelled crowns that kings have hurled | |
| In shadowy pools, when armies fled; | 5 |
| The love-tales wove with silken thread | |
| By dreaming ladies upon cloth | |
| That has made fat the murderous moth; | |
| The roses that of old time were | |
| Woven by ladies in their hair, | 10 |
| The dew-cold lilies ladies bore | |
| Through many a sacred corridor | |
| Where such gray clouds of incense rose | |
| That only the gods’ eyes did not close: | |
| For that pale breast and lingering hand | 15 |
| Come from a more dream-heavy land, | |
| A more dream-heavy hour than this; | |
| And when you sigh from kiss to kiss | |
| I hear white Beauty sighing, too, | |
| For hours when all must fade like dew | 20 |
| But flame on flame, deep under deep, | |
| Throne over throne, where in half sleep | |
| Their swords upon their iron knees | |
| Brood her high lonely mysteries. | |
