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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.