She lifts the eyelids amethyst, And looks from half-shut eyes, Gleaming with miracles of mist, Gray shadows on blue skies ; And on her whole face sunrise-kissed, Child-wonderment most wise. The whitest arms in all the earth Blush from the lilac bed. Like a young star even at its birth Shines out the golden head. Sad violets are the maiden girth, Pale flames night-canopied. O gentlest lady ! Lift those eyes, And curl those lips to kiss ! Melt my young boyhood in thy sighs, A subtler Salmacis ! Hide, in that peace, these ecstasies ; In that fair fountain, this ! 16