Poems (Taylor)/Monody

​
MONODY
I.
  Art thou so sad, sweet Soul,—Sad with the sadness of narcissus pale,Whose delicate odours lingeringly exhaleBy rare brown pools the green-blue birches veil,Sad with the sadness, Love, of souls too pureTheir own consuming beauty to endure,—  Art thou so sad, sweet Soul?
II.
  Love me, too-perfect Soul!For such as thou, stooping to love of meSurely a fault, a recklessness will beTo check thy fatal flame of purity,—And yet a fault the gods may well forgive.For this,—for any reason,—let me live,—  O love me, perfect Soul!
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.