The Carven Pipe - page #2

Water, for the anguish of the solstice:- nay,
   but dip the vessel slowly, - nay, but lean
and hark how at it's verge the wave sighs in
reluctant. Hush! Beyond all depth away
the heat lies silent at the break of day:
   Now the hand trails upon the viol string
   that sobs, and the brown faces cease to sing,
sad with the whole of pleasure. Whither stray
her eyes now, from whose mouth the slim pipes
                                               creep
   and leave it pouting, while the shadowed grass
   is cool against her naked side? Let be:
Say nothing now unto her lest she weep,
   nor name this ever. Be it as it was, -
   life touching lips with immortality.

                                "For a Venetian Pastoral"   Dante G. Rossetti

Her eyes were deeper than the depth
   of waters stilled at even;
she had three lilies in her hand,
   and the stars in her hair were seven...

and the souls mounting up to God
   went by her like still flames...

the sun was gone now; the curled moon
   was like a little feather.
Her voice was like the voice the stars
   had when they sang together.

                                   "The Blessed Damozel" Dante G. Rossetti

Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass,
stains the white radiance of Eternity;

Percy Byss Shelley

.....the flame-like rose of verse,
all colour, and all odour, and all bloom.

Percy Byss Shelley

Whence come ye, so wild and so fleet,
sandals of lightning upon your feet!

Percy Byss Shelley

We are children of splendour and flame,
   of shuddering, also, and tears,
Magnificent out of the dust we came,
   and abject from the Spheres;

                                       William Watson

At thy mute signal, leaf by golden leaf,
crumbles the gorgeous year;

"Autumn" William Watson

continued - page #3

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