TO A YOUNG LADY ON HER APPROACHING MARRIAGE.

1913

O Pagan joy !
The whole mad earth for toy,
O body sweet!
Down at your lover's feet
Cast your last robe and wear
No jewels save your hair,
Let every little curl that takes the light
Dance on your shoulders white.
Face him and dare ! in your immortal hour,
And yours the power.
Your dear straight limbs bathed in the golden air

Are like a prayer
Made to the horned star of all beauty
Aphrodite.
Look on your lover ! little now he knows
Of sword or rose,
Little of triumphs gone or burning scars
Or wars or stars,
Yours is his soul, and now as wine poured
out
Quench you his drought!
Know you our flying life is but one whole
The body as the soul,
Body and soul your love shall fashioned
be
O Girl be free !
Dare ! let your passion burn away your
shame
He cries your name,
Our Mother's glory lighteth upon you —
Bear her fire true.