A Harmony
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Transcript of A Harmony
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In the gold room:
A Harmony
Oscar Wilde
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Her ivory hands on the ivory keysStrayed in a fitful fantasy,
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Like the silver gleam when the poplar trees
Rustle their pale leaves listlessly,
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Or the drifting foam of a restless seaWhen the waves show their teeth in
the flying breeze.
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Like the delicate gossamer tangles spun
Her gold hair fell on the wall of gold
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On the burnished disk of the marigold,Or the sun-flower turning to meet the sun
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When the gloom of the jealous night is done,
And the spear of the lily is aureoled.
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And her sweet red lips on these lips of mine
Burned like the ruby fire set
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In the swinging lamp of a crimson shrine,
Or the bleeding wounds of the pomegranate,
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Or the heart of the lotus drenched and wet
With the spilt-out blood of the rose-red wine.