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highlyeccentricI can't feel the sunshine
Or see the stars aright
For thinking of her beauty
And her kisses bright.
She would not let me kiss her
Once and not again.
Deeming soul essential,
Sense she doth disdain.
If I should once kiss her,
I would never rest
Till I had lain an hour long
Pillowed on her breast.
Lying so, I'd tell her
Many a secret thing
God has whispered to me
When my soul took wing.
Would that I were Sappho,
Greece my land, not this!
There the noblest women,
When they loved, would kiss.
Did I mention that Lesbia Harford is my new favouritest? This poem doesn't appear in the `41 collection, so I am drawing the conclusion that it wasn't among the small number of her works published while she was alive, and that Nettie Palmer considered it unfit for posthumous publication.
Or see the stars aright
For thinking of her beauty
And her kisses bright.
She would not let me kiss her
Once and not again.
Deeming soul essential,
Sense she doth disdain.
If I should once kiss her,
I would never rest
Till I had lain an hour long
Pillowed on her breast.
Lying so, I'd tell her
Many a secret thing
God has whispered to me
When my soul took wing.
Would that I were Sappho,
Greece my land, not this!
There the noblest women,
When they loved, would kiss.
Did I mention that Lesbia Harford is my new favouritest? This poem doesn't appear in the `41 collection, so I am drawing the conclusion that it wasn't among the small number of her works published while she was alive, and that Nettie Palmer considered it unfit for posthumous publication.