And takes the mouth with edge of wine; I would Have here some colour and smooth shape as good As those in heaven whom the chief garden hides With low grape-blossom veiling their white sides And lesser tendrils that so bind and blind Their eyes and feet, that if one come behind To touch their hair they see not, neither fly; This would I see in heaven and not die. So praying, I had nigh cried out and knelt, So wholly my prayer filled me: till I felt In the dumb night's warm weight of glowing gloom Somewhat that altered all my sleeping-room, And made it like a green low place wherein Maids mix to bathe: one sets her small warm chin Against a ripple, that the angry pearl May flow like flame about her: the next curl Dips in some eddy coloured of the sun To wash the dust well out; another one Holds a straight ankle in her hand and swings With lavish body sidelong, so that rings Of sweet fierce water, swollen and splendid, fail All round her fine and floated body pale, Swayed flower-fashion, and her balanced side Swerved edgeways lets the weight of water slide, As taken in some underflow of sea Swerves the banked gold of sea-flowers; but she Pulls down some branch to keep her perfect head Clear of the river: even from wall to bed, I tell you, was my room transfigured so. Sweet, green and warm it was, nor could one know If there were walls or leaves, or if there was No bed's green curtain, but mere gentle grass. There were set also hard against the feet Gold plates with honey and green grapes to eat, With the cool water's noise to hear in rhymes: And a wind warmed me full of furze and limes And all hot sweets the heavy summer fills To the round brim of smooth cup-shapen hills. Next the grave walking of a woman's feet Made my veins hesitate, and gracious heat Made thick the lids and leaden on mine eyes: And I thought ever, surely it were wise Not yet to see her: this may last (who knows?) Five minutes; the poor rose is twice a rose Because it turns a face to her, the wind Sings that way; hath this woman ever sinned, I wonder? as a boy with apple-rind, I played with pleasures, made them to my mind, Changed each ere tasting. When she came indeed, First her hair touched me, then I grew to feed On the sense of her hand; her mouth at last Touched me between the cheek and lip and past Over my face with kisses here and there Sown in and out across the eyes and hair. Still I said nothing; till she set her face More close and harder on the kissing-place, And her mouth caught like a snake's mouth, and stung So faint and tenderly, the fang scarce clung More than a bird's foot: yet a wound it grew, A great one, let this red mark witness you Under the left breast; and the stroke thereof So clove my sense that I woke out of love And knew not what this dream was nor had wit; But now God knows if I have skill of it."