A Masque of Love (Classic Reprint)

Charles Erskine Scott Wood


Excerpt from A Masque of Love

A Masque of Love. The First Part.

Scene 1. Eve at the Forest's Edge.

Eve. This Kissing air is medicined with flowers and gently sweet, but soothes me not. Plam and brow and 'twist my breasts are moist and I am heavy with oppression of I know not what. 'Twas yestereve I watched two wrens caress, and when she hopped into the aged beech, he, swollen to a feather ball, did mad himself with song from his sky-pointed bill. And then I watched the dark-browed Night, with quiet fingers, don her diadem. Mine eyes did question hers, and as the hours in slow procession dragged I sighed - and turned and sighed again, till one by one mine eyes put out the stars, my hungering unanswered still.

South Wind. Sister!

Eve. Who speaks?

South Wind. 'Tis I, - thy sister.

Eve. I see you not.

South Wind. I'm here.

Eve. Ha! Sprang you from the solid earth or wert thou coined from air? You come as comes the dew.

South Wind. Here, sister, feel my hand. I came to heal thy ache.

Eve. How soft! You smell most sweet.

South Wind. I slept among the honeysuckles yesternight. And thou art sick?

Eve. I'm sad. I had a buck with little hoern like buds. He trotted after me on slim-propped legs, - his wet nose put inot my hands, and answered me with sad brown eyes.

About the Publisher

Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com

This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

Тип: fb2, pdf

Другие книги:
A Marriage Triumph
A Memorial of John Greenleaf Whittier