Читать книгу Enamels and Cameos and other Poems - Gautier Théophile - Страница 9

Every lover deep hath set

In a sacred nook apart

Some dear token for the heart

In its hope or its regret.

One hath nested safe away

Blackest ringlet ever seen,

Over which an azure sheen

Lieth, as on wing of jay.

One from shoulder pale as milk

Took a tress more golden-fine

Than the threads that softly shine

In the silk-worm's wonder-silk.

In its hiding mystical,

Memory's reliquary sweet,

Glances of another greet

Gloves with fingers white and small.

And another yet may list

To inhale a faint perfume

Of the violets from her room,

Freshly given – faded, kissed.

Here a slipper's curving grace

One with sighing treasureth.

There another guards a breath

In a mask's light edge of lace.

I've no slipper to revere,

Neither glove nor tress nor flower;

But I cherish for love's dower

A divine, adorèd tear, —

Fallen from the blue above,

Clearest dew, heaven's drop for me,

Pearl dissolved secretly

In the chalice of my love.

To mine eyes the dim-worn dew

Beams, a gem of Orient worth,

Standing from the parchment forth,

Diamond of a sapphire blue, —

Steadfast, lustreful and deep!

Tear that fell unhoped, unsought,

On a song my soul once wrought,

From an eye unused to weep.