6 MARCUS AURELIUS: A SUPPRESSED “MEDITATION”

Bright eyes in truth Faustina hath: They are colored like that restive path Which sunset cleaves across the sea; They are as chill; it well may be Their splendors, also, do but screen Waste wreckage and coiled, slow, obscene, Vague, ravenous things. It is of this I think whenever her lips kiss. She is brightly colored and soft and frail; Her beauty like a tinctured veil Hides and divides her heart from me. Nor would I vex your secrecy, Grave eyes, that screen her unguessed heart, Wherein I ask not any part; It is enough that ye are bright. I praise you; and am expedite Once more to touch Faustina’s hair Caressingly, one instant, where Her face lifts now, and shows how fair That body is which Parcæ planned, And fashioned fitly, to command Such love as all men understand. Grant her unfaithful, and wherein Am I less favored by Faustine Than were her heart all faithfulness? Fools in their folly face distress; But wisdom muffles wisdom’s sight And looks for naught more recondite In any woman’s grace than this— Fair flesh, bright hair, and lips that kiss So winsomely that thereupon Man’s wisdom wins oblivion, And right and reason, swooning, seem Faint figments of a fool’s fond dream.