When my arms wrap you round I press

My heart upon the loveliness

That has long faded from the world

The jewelled crowns that kings have hurle In shadowy pools, when armies fled

The love-tales wrought with silken threa By dreaming ladies upon cloth

That has made fat the murderous moth

The roses that of old time were

Woven by ladies in their hair,

The dew-cold lilies ladies bore

Through many a sacred corridor

Where such grey clouds of incense rose

That only God’s eyes did not close

For that pale breast and lingering hand

Come from a more dream-heavy land,

A more dream-heavy hour than this;

And when you sigh from kiss to kiss

I hear white Beauty sighing, too,

For hours when all must fade like dew,

But flame on flame, and deep on dee

Throne over throne where in half sleep

Their swords upon their iron knees

Brood her high lonely mysteries. 8H8bSSePRkOEXsu5DSOBFuZmb1KUkmZJz5iUsy96FstmOOzPmzJZzSevnZ4FV8Jb