. . .Your eyes were of the blue; You wandered up and down the world, For you had much to do. For oh, you were not idle, Whatever men might say— You made the colour of the year Magnificent and gay.

[Pg 3]

ATARAH With painted slender folded hands She waited what might come, Her head was tyred with jewelled bands, Her mouth was sweet and dumb. Her cymar was of ardassine, Fire red from throat to hem, Broidered with Turkis stones therein— She gave her soul for them. Faint cassia and love-haunted myrrh Made perilous her hair, And what was Sidon’s woe to her Whose face was king’s despair? Nor life nor love from those cold lips, But ah, in what degree, Her passionate lover leans and sips Her death-bright poesy. [Pg 4] AGE Blindness, and women wailing on white seas, Seas where no placid sails have ever. . . Read More