Chapter I

I saw you smiling over broken flowers,
Yourself a flower unbroken and more rare
Than petals that make sweet the moonlit air,
And load with scent the Summer’s golden hours.
Your perfect head, the ripple of your hair,
Like the soft sun that shines through April showers,
Leans from a fairyland of twinkling towers,
And beckons me to an enchanted stair.

Your eyes, your eyes, divide me from my sleep;
The echo of your laughter makes me weep,
You fill the measureless world, you frailest thing!
And in the silence of my deepest dream,
Your beauty wanders like a whispering stream,
And brushes past me like an angel’s wing.