A Clymene

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Title:     A Clymene
Author: Arthur Symons [More Titles by Symons]

À Clymene

MYSTICAL strains unheard,
A song without a word,
Dearest, because thine eyes.
Pale as the skies,

Because thy voice, remote
As the far clouds that float
Veiling for me the whole
Heaven of the soul,

Because the stately scent
Of thy swan's whiteness, blent
With the white lily's bloom
Of thy perfume,

Ah! because thy dear love,
The music breathed above
By angels halo-crowned,
Odour and sound,

Hath, in my subtle heart,
With some mysterious art
Transposed thy harmony,
So let it be!

[The end]
Arthur Symons's poem: Clymene

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