Page:Veil other poems .djvu/76



ighed the wind to the wheat:— 'The Queen who is slumbering there, Once bewildered the rose; Scorned, "Thou un-fair!" Once, from that bird-whirring court, Ascended the ruinous stair. Aloft, on that weed-hung turret, suns Smote on her hair— Of a gold by Archiac sought Of a gold sea-hid, Of a gold that from core of quartz No flame shall bid Pour into light of the air For God's Jews to see.'

Mocked the wheat to the wind — 'Kiss me! Kiss me!'