Читать книгу Blooms of the Berry - Madison Julius Cawein - Страница 18

With lips that were hoarse with a fury

Of foam and of winds that are strewn,

Of storm and of turbulent hurry,

The ocean roared, heralding soon

A birth of miraculous glory,

Of madness, affection—the moon.

And soon from her waist with a slipping

And shudder and clinging of light,

With a loos'ning and pushing and ripping

Of the raven-laced bodice of Night,

With a silence of feet and a dripping

The goddess came, virginal white.

And the air was alive with the twinkle

And tumult of silver-shod feet,

The hurling of stars, and the sprinkle

Of loose, lawny limbs and a sweet

Murmur and whisper and tinkle

Of beam-weaponed moon spirits fleet.