54 “—OF ANISE AND CUMMIN ALSO”

It is in vain I mirror forth the praise In pondered virelais Of her that is the lady of my love; Far-sought and curious phrases fail to tell The tender miracle Of her white body and the grace thereof. Thus many and many an artful-artless strain Is fashioned all in vain: Sound proves unsound; and even her name, that is To me more glorious than the glow of fire Or dawn or love’s desire Or opals interlinked with turquoises, Mocks utterance. So, lacking skill to praise That perfect bodily beauty which is hers, Even as those worshippers Who bore rude offerings of honey and maize, Their all, into the gold-paved ministers Of Aphroditê, I have given her these My faltering melodies, That are Love’s lean and ragged messengers.