Skip to content
1837–1913

XXIX.

Joaquin Miller

Her soul surged vast as space is. She Was trembling as a courser when His thin flank quivers, and his feet Touch velvet on the turf, and he

Is all afoam, alert, and fleet As sunlight glancing on the sea, And full of triumph before men. At last she bended some her face,

Half leaned, then put him back a pace, And met his eyes. Calm, silently Her eyes looked deep into his eyes,—

As maidens down some mossy well Do peer in hope by chance to tell By image there what future lies Before them, and what face shall be

The pole-star of their destiny. Pure Nature's lover! Loving him With love that made all pathways dim And difficult where he was not,—

Then marvel not at form forgot. And who shall chide? Doth priest know aught Of sign, or holy unction brought From over seas, that ever can

Make man love maid or maid love man One whit the more, one bit the less, For all his mummeries to bless? Yea, all his blessing or his ban?

The winds breathed warm as Araby: She leaned upon his breast, she lay A wide-winged swan with folded wing. He drowned his hot face in her hair,

He heard her great heart rise and sing; He felt her bosom swell. The air Swooned sweet with perfume of her form.

Her breast was warm, her breath was warm, And warm her warm and perfumed mouth As summer journeys through the South.

Cookies on Poetry Cove

We use cookies to remember your language preference and — only with your consent — to learn how Poetry Cove is used. You can change your mind any time.
XXIX. · Joaquin Miller · Poetry Cove