The Prelude

________________________________________________
Title:     The Prelude
Author: Rachel Annand Taylor [More Titles by Taylor]

Thou sayest, "O pure Palace of my Pleasures,
O Doors of Ivory, let the King come in.
With silver lamps before him, and with measures
Of low lute-music let him come. Begin,
Ye suppliant lilies and ye frail white roses,
Imploring sweetnesses of hands and eyes,
To let Love through to the most secret closes
Of all his flowery Court of Paradise." . . .
Sunder the jealous gates. Thine ivory Castle
Is hung with scarlet, is the Convent of Pain.
With purple and with spice indeed the Vassal
Receives her King whom dark desires constrain.
Rejoice, rejoice!--But far from flutes and dances
The cloistered Soul lies frozen in her trances.

[The end]
Rachel Annand Taylor's poem: Prelude

________________________________________________



GO TO TOP OF SCREEN