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Within the flicker of a white-thorn shade
In gentle sleep he found the maid laid.
One hand that held a book had fallen away
Across her body, and the other one lay
Upon a marble fountain's plashing rim,
Among whose broken waves the fish showed dim,
But yet its wide-flung spray now woke her not,
Because the summer day at noon was hot,
And all sweet sounds and scents were lulling her.
So soon the rustle of his wings 'gain stir
Her looser folds of rainment, and the hair
Spread wide upon the grass and daisies fair,
As Love cast down his eyes with a half smile
Godlike and cruel;that faded in a while,
And long he stood above her hidden eyes
With red lips parted in a god's surprise.
then very Love knelt down beside the maid
And on her breast a hand unfelt he laid,
And drew the gown from off her gentlr feet,
And set his fair cheek to her shoulder sweet,
And kissed her lips that knew of no love yet,
And wondered if his heart would e'er forget
The perfect arm that o'er her body lay.
William Morris
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