Explore "Ermengarde" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
/ Queen of the Courts of Love, she sleeps; one arm / Pillowing her raven hair, as Dawn might Night, / Or Day kiss Dusk; or Darkness, starry warm, / Be gathered of her sister, rosy Light.
/ Pale from the purple of the damask cloth / One hand hangs, as a lily-bloom might, lone / Above a bed of poppies; or a moth / Might softly hover by a rose full-blown.
/ Heraldic, rich, the costly coverings / Sweep, fall'n in folds, pushed partly from her breast; / As through storm-broken clouds the full moon springs, / From these one orb of her pure bosom pressed.
/ She sleeps: and where the moteless moonbeams sink / Through blazoned panes -- an immaterial snow -- / In wide, white jets, the lion-fur seems to drink / With tawny jaws their wasted, winey glow.
/ Light-lidded sleep and holy dreams are hers, / Untouched of feverish sorrow or of care, / Soft as the wind whose fragrant breathing stirs / The moonbeam-tangled tresses of her hair.