DEW

Clear the dawn which stole discreetly

From the far-most rim of night,

'Till the sky was filled completely
With a blaze of golden light.

Gleaming wands from Sol's pavilion
Lit your eyes, in slumber sheathed;
Kissed your lips of bright vermillion
Soft, so they no sighing breathed.

Gently, in the sunlight shining,
When birds their songs began,
Woke a leafless Eve reclining
In the naked arms of man.

Dew drops lay on pastures drying
In the brilliant rays of morn;
Silently and slowly dying
Where a moon ago were born.

Sunlight filtered, incalescent,
Through the soft, green sleeved vine.
Auburn fingers, incandescent,
Turned the pallid dew to wine.

Drank I of the moisture, cupping
Hands upon the turf's wet brink.
And to you a tiny supping
Brought I for a breakfast drink.

But the wine-sweet dew was wasted,
More could not my thirst complete;
On my lips of water tasted
Whilst I craved for nectar sweet.

On your breast, a fallen droplet
Like a pale transparent bead
Caught within a milk-white goblet,
Lay a measure small of mead.

Low I stooped to drink this treasure
Pillowed warmly on your chest.
Flushing cheeks, aflame with pleasure,
Kissed by each soft, rose-tipped breast.

Then desire's conflagration,
Stinging as a thousand whips,
Sought devine incatenation
Ere the philtre passed my lips.

Swamped beneath the passion spawning
In the interlace of limbs;
Heedless of the daylight dawning
And the bird's soft-fluted hymns.

Soon to still delight I yielded;
To that sweet expanse of rest.
Whilst my sleepy head was shielded
In the cradle of your breast.

From the fences and the hedgerows;
From the mantle of the yew;
From the daisy spangled meadows
Vanished every trace of dew.