  (Sitting to him for a Madonna.) Knot up the filmy strands of golden hair That veil your breast, yet leave its beauties bare; In decent ripples backward let it flow, Smooth-parted sideways from your placid brow. Unclasp the clinging necklace from your throat, And let this misty veil about you float, As round the seraphs of my visions swim Faint, roseate clouds to make their radiance dim And bearable to dazzled human eyes, Uplifted in a rapture of surprise. Lay off your armlets now, and cover up With dark blue folds that shoulder’s dimpled slope; Let naught appear to woo the grosser sense, But ruling calm, and sacred innocence; Subdue the pointed twinkle of your eye Into a level, large serenity, (Now comes the test) and let your mouth awhile Be pressed into a faint, ascetic smile, A pure reflection of the inward thought, A chastened glow from fires celestial caught. 1878. |
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