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Page:Mandragora.djvu/63

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THE APPEAL


OH that at this last hour
  The word might be given me
To tell you the power — the power
    That you have over me!

Oh that I could enfold
    Dyed in purple and blue,
Writ in gold upon gold,
    The feeling I have for you!

What can I give to you
    To take on your cruel way,
That will cry at your heart all night
    And cry at your heart all day!

What can I find for you
    To place close to your breast —
Something fatal and true.
    Something to trouble your rest?

O, wraith of the rain and the mist,
    How can I live without you?
You float on a sea of amethyst
    And the moon is silver about you!

You float and drift on a shadowy tide,
    And the feathered reeds bend low.