Poems (Taylor)/The Supreme Wish
THE SUPREME WISH
I.
God give you joy, I said,—and joy you had.
But how the the dancing tired
Your subtile feet!—and from the pageant glad
Your eyes most uninspired
Wearily turned toward the wistful West:—
So now, God give you rest.
But how the the dancing tired
Your subtile feet!—and from the pageant glad
Your eyes most uninspired
Wearily turned toward the wistful West:—
So now, God give you rest.
II.
God give you love, I said,—and love's delight
Deep-dyed your purple eyes:—
But now, vague Soul, that wanderest careless quite
Of where the censers rise,
With listless lips and hands, and flaming breast,—
I pray, God give you rest.
Deep-dyed your purple eyes:—
But now, vague Soul, that wanderest careless quite
Of where the censers rise,
With listless lips and hands, and flaming breast,—
I pray, God give you rest.
III.
God give you rest, my queen. No earthly flowers
Upon that golden hair
Can lightly lie, no low love-song of ours
But tires you to despair.
God crown you softly with His lilies blest,
O Sweet, God give you rest!
Upon that golden hair
Can lightly lie, no low love-song of ours
But tires you to despair.
God crown you softly with His lilies blest,
O Sweet, God give you rest!