Page:Poems and ballads (IA poemsballads00swinrich).pdf/285

 I am the queen of Lesbians. My love, that had no part in man's, Was sweeter than all shape of sweet. The intolerable infinite desire Made my face pale like faded fire When the ashen pyre falls through with heat. My blood was hot wan wine of love, And my song's sound the sound thereof, The sound of the delight of it.

I am the queen of Italy. These were the signs God set on me; A barren beauty subtle and sleek, Curled carven hair, and cheeks worn wan With fierce false lips of many a man, Large temples where the blood ran weak, A mouth athirst and amorous And hungering as the grave's mouth does, That, being an-hungred, cannot speak.

I am the queen of Persians. My breasts were lordlier than bright swans, My body as amber fair and thin. Strange flesh was given my lips for bread, With poisonous hours my days were fed,