The Cloud

Lightly in the azure air Soars a cloud, emerging free Like a virgin from the fair Blue sea;

Or an Aphrodite sweet, Floating upright and empearled In the shell, about its feet Foam-curled.

Undulating overhead, How its changing body glows! On its shoulder dawn hath spread A rose.

Marble, snow, blend amorously In that form by sunlight kissed-- Slumbering Antiope Of mist!

Sailing unto distant goal, Over Alps and Apennines, Sister of the woman-soul, It shines;

Till my heart flies forth at last On the wings of passion warm, And I yearn to gather fast Its form.

Reason saith: "Mere vapour thing! Bursting bubble! Yet, we deem, Holds this wind-distorted ring Our dream."

Faith declareth: "Beauty seen, Like a cloud, is but a thought, Or a breath, that, having been, Is naught.

"Have thy vision. Build it proud. Let thy soul be full thereof. Love a woman--love a cloud-- But love!"