No. 34.
Rudely blows the winter blast,
Withered leaves are falling fast,
Cold hath hushed the birds at last.
While the heavens were warm and glowing,
Nature's offspring loved in May;
But man's heart no debt is owing
To such change of month or day
As the dumb brute-beasts obey.
Oh, the joys of this possessing!
How unspeakable the blessing
That my Flora yields to-day!
Labour long I did not rue,
Ere I won my wages due,
And the prize I played for drew.
Flora with her brows of laughter,
Gazing on me, breathing bliss,
Draws my yearning spirit after,
Sucks my soul forth in a kiss:
Where's the pastime matched with this?
Oh, the joys of this possessing!
How unspeakable the blessing
Of my Flora's loveliness!
Truly mine is no harsh doom,
While in this secluded room
Venus lights for me the gloom!
Flora faultless as a blossom
Bares her smooth limbs for mine eyes;
Softly shines her virgin bosom,
And the breasts that gently rise
Like the hills of Paradise.
Oh, the joys of this possessing!
How unspeakable the blessing
When my Flora is the prize!
From her tender breasts decline,
In a gradual curving line,
Flanks like swansdown white and fine.
On her skin the touch discerneth
Naught of rough; 'tis soft as snow:
'Neath the waist her belly turneth
Unto fulness, where below
In Love's garden lilies blow.
Oh, the joys of this possessing!
How unspeakable the blessing!
Sweetest sweets from Flora flow!
Ah! should Jove but find my fair,
He would fall in love, I swear,
And to his old tricks repair:
In a cloud of gold descending
As on Danae's brazen tower,
Or the sturdy bull's back bending,
Or would veil his godhood's power
In a swan's form for one hour.
Oh, the joys of this possessing!
How unspeakable the blessing!
How divine my Flora's flower!
A third "poem of privacy" may be employed to temper this too fervid
mood. I conceive it to be meant for the monologue of a lover in the
presence of his sweetheart, and to express the varying lights and
shades of his emotion.