The Garden of Janus
I The cloud my bed is tinged with blood and foam. The vault yet blazes with the sun Writhing above the West, brave hippodrome Whose gladiators shock and shun As the blue night devours
Dumb
Gabriel whispered in mine ear His archangelic poesie. How can I write? I only hear The sobbing murmur of the sea. Raphael breathed and bade me pass His rapt evangel to mankind; I cannot
Colophon
TO LAYLAH EIGHT-AND-TWENTY Lamp of living loveliness, Maid miraculously male, Rapture of thine own excess Blushing through the velvet veil Where the olive cheeks aglow Shadow-soften into snow, Breasts like Bacchanals afloat Under the