Slender bough a-swing On a swelling dune, Fruit of flame a-swoon My heart gathering. Curling tresses slide O'er his cheeks; behold Over silver, gold Streaming liquified. Perfect loveliness Dwells upon his brow; Lovely is the bough In his leafy dress. Aureate the cup In his fingers gleams; Over dawn meseems Day is mounting up. Wine, the sun, swings high Westward to his lips, And his finger-tips Frame its eastern sky. Down his throat it flows To the sleep it seeks, Leaving in his cheeks Sunset's flaming rose. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AUCTION: ANDERSON GALLERIES by LOUIS UNTERMEYER THE MESSAGES by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON A SEA DIALOGUE by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES BEING RETIRED, COMPLAINS AGAINST THE COURT by PHILIP AYRES OCTOBER FROM A BUS WINDOW by ELLA MCBRIDE BALLEW OF SIR PHILIP SIDNEY by JOHN BEAUMONT |