I go on, Observe how courage, boldness mark my steps! At nine o'clock she climbs to her boudoir. I finding errands in the hallway hear The desultory taking up of books, And through her open door, see her at last Cast off her dinner gown and to the bath Step like a ray of moonlight. Then she snaps The light on where the onyx tub and walls Dazzle the air. I enter then her room And stand against the closed door, do not pry Upon her in the bath. Give her the chance To fly me, fight me standing face to face. I hear her flounder in the water, hear Hands slap and slip with water breast and arms; Hear little sighs and shudders and the roughness Of crash towels on her back, when in a minute She stands with back toward me in the doorway, A sea-shell glory, pink and white to hair Sun-lit, a lily crowned with powdered gold. She turned toward her dresser then and shook White dust of talcum on her arms, and looked So lovingly upon her tense straight breasts, Touching them under with soft tapering hands To blue eyes deepening like a brazier flame Turned by a sudden gust. Who gives her these, The thought ran through me, for her joy alone And not for mine? So I stood there like Zeus Coming in thunder to Semele, like The diety of Watteau. Correggio Had never painted me a satyr there Drinking her beauty in, so worshipful, My will subdued in worship of her beauty To obey her will. And then she turned and saw me, And faced me in her nakedness, nor tried To hide it from me, faced me immovable A Mona Lisa smile upon her lips. And let me plead my cause, make known my love, Speak out my torture, wearing still the smile. Let me approach her till I almost touched The whiteness of her bosom. Then it seemed That smile of hers not wilting me she clapped Hands over eyes and said: "I am afraid-- Oh no, it cannot be--what would they say?" Then rushing in the bathroom, quick she slammed The door and shrieked: "You scoundrel, go--you beast." My dream went up like paper charred and whirled Above a hearth. Thrilling I stood alone Amid her room and saw my life, our life Embodied in this woman lately there Lying and cowardly. And as I turned To leave the room, her father and the gardener Pounced on me, threw me down a flight of stairs And turned me over, stunned, to you the law Here with these others who have stolen coal To keep them warm, as I have stolen beauty To keep from freezing in this arid country Of winter winds on which the dust of custom Rides like a fog. Now do your worst to me! THE LANDSCAPE