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PROLOGUE.
3.
Now, what is it makes pulsate the robe?
Why tremble the sprays? What life o'er brims
The body,—the house, no eye can probe,—
Divined as, beneath a robe, the limbs?
Now, what is it makes pulsate the robe?
Why tremble the sprays? What life o'er brims
The body,—the house, no eye can probe,—
Divined as, beneath a robe, the limbs?
4.
And there again! But my heart may guess
Who tripped behind; and she sang perhaps:
So, the old wall throbbed, and its life's excess
Died out and away in the leafy wraps.
And there again! But my heart may guess
Who tripped behind; and she sang perhaps:
So, the old wall throbbed, and its life's excess
Died out and away in the leafy wraps.
5.
Wall upon wall are between us: life
And song should away from heart to heart.
I—prison-bird, with a ruddy strife
At breast, and a lip whence storm-notes start—
Wall upon wall are between us: life
And song should away from heart to heart.
I—prison-bird, with a ruddy strife
At breast, and a lip whence storm-notes start—
