Page:Poems and ballads (IA poemsballads00swinrich).pdf/280

 Love bade my kissing eyelids ope That men beholding might praise love. My hair was wonderful and curled; My lips held fast the mouth o' the world To spoil the strength and speech thereof. The latter triumph in my breath Bowed down the beaten brows of death, Ashamed they had not wrath enough.

I am the queen of Tyrians. My hair was glorious for twelve spans, That dried to loose dust afterward. My stature was a strong man's length: My neck was like a place of strength Built with white walls, even and hard. Like the first noise of rain leaves catch One from another, snatch by snatch, Is my praise, hissed against and marred.

I am the queen of Amorites. My face was like a place of lights With multitudes at festival. The glory of my gracious brows Was like God's house made glorious With colours upon either wall. Between my brows and hair there was