Страница 572 из 1116

She comes like fullest moon on happy night; * Taper of waist,

with shape of magic might: She hath an eye whose glances quell

mankind, * And Ruby on her cheeks reflects his light: Enveils her

hips the blackness of her hair; *Beware of curls that bite with

viper-bite! Her sides are silken-soft, the while the heart * Mere

rock behind that surface lurks from sight: From the fringed

curtains of her eyne she shoots * Shafts which at farthest range

on mark alight: When round her neck or waist I throw my arms *

Her breasts repel me with their hardened height. Ah, how her

beauty all excels! ah how * That shape transcends the graceful

waving bough!