A Song

A poem by Barcroft Henry Boake

I’ve a kiss from a warmer lover
Than maiden earth can be:
She blew it up to the skies above her,
And now it has come to me;
From the far-away it has come today
With a breath of the old salt sea.

She lay and laughed on a lazy billow,
Far away on the deep,
Who had gathered the froth for my lady’s pillow
Gathered a sparkling heap;
And the ocean’s cry was the lullaby
That cradled my love to sleep.

Far away on the blue Pacific
There doth my lady roam,
That is oft-times gay, but as oft terrific:
Her jewels are beads of foam:
In a coral cave, where a blue-green wave
Keeps guard, is my lady’s home.

She claps her hands, and her henchman hurries
West of the sunset sheen:
’Tis he who comes when a mist-wrack scurries,
Skirting the deep ravine;
And my heart is stirred by the loving word
He carries me from my queen.

A drop distilled from a lotos flower
That is the magic key
To unlock the cage, and my soul has power
To gather itself and flee,
At my love’s behest, where she waits her guest
In a palace beneath the sea.

Joy is ours that is almost anguish:
Pain that is almost sweet:
We kiss; and the ocean creatures languish
Jealously at our feet;
The sight grows dim, and the senses swim
When I and my lady greet.

There to dream, while the soul is swooning
Under a woven spell
Hushed to sleep by her tender crooning
Learnt from the ocean swell
There to rest on her jewelled breast,
To love and be loved as well!

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