His Lady Of The Sonnets V

written by

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LIKE one great opal on the breast of Night,
Soft and translucent, hangs the orb of June!
I hear wild pipings of a joyous tune
Played on a golden reed for the delight
Of you, my hidden, lovely Eremite–
You by the fountain from the marble hewn–
You silent as in dream, with flowers strewn
About your feet–you goddess, robed in white!

Mute and amazed, I at the broken wall
Lean fearful, lest the sudden, dreadful dawn
For me Diana's awful doom let fall;
And I be cursed with curious Actæon,
Save that you find in me this strong defence–
My adoration of your innocence.

© Robert Norwood