This night I dreamed that you shone before me Colder and paler than rose-flushed marble, With dark hair fallen across your shoulders And face half hidden, And in that darkness I went before you And turned my eyes from your beauty quickly: I turned away from your too great beauty, I fled before you. Now I remember how in that shadow You started to smile, your dark eyes kindled, Your face grew light with a word unspoken; Then, had I waited, I should have learned . . . what moonlight secret? What whisper of temples, and hills of cypress? What echo of singing and far-off cymbals, -- Gleam of the goddess? But I, grown base in fear of denial, Though all my blood stood still for your beauty, I turned in silence away from your kindness; And now I have lost you. |