1899 · CLOSE READING
Tale of Archais
Tale of Archais (1899), PDF p. 46
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38
THE TALE OF ARCHAIS
O lotus-flower too white,
Starred purple, round and sweet,
Rich golden wheat
Of night.
Ill kiss thee, lotus-flower,
Ill pluck thee, yellow grain,
Once and again
This hour.
There coos a dove to me
Across the waves of space ;
O passionate face
To see !
Ill woo thee, silver dove,
Caress thee, lotus-flower ;
It is the hour
Of Love.
Cypris blushed deep ; albeit for love did swoon
At the songs sweetness, while the cold dead moon
Was still and pale ; her nymphs are fain to sigh
With sudden longing filled, and like to die
For vain delight, for still across the sea
Stole sensuous breaths of Sapphic melody
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