Page:Pictures & poems.djvu/46

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LA BELLA MANO


O LOVELY hand, that thy sweet self doth lave

In that thy pure and proper element,

 Whence erst the Lady of Love's high advent

Was born, and endless fires sprang from the wave:—

Even as her Loves to her their offerings gave,

 For thee the jewelled gifts they bear; while each

 Looks to those lips, of music-measured speech

The fount, and of more bliss than man may crave.


In royal wise ring-girt and bracelet-spann'd,

 A flower of Venus' own virginity,

Go shine among thy sisterly sweet band;

 In maiden-minded converse delicately

 Evermore white and soft; until thou be,

O hand! heart-handsel'd in a lover's hand.