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Frans_Jozef
Thursday, January 20th, 2005, 01:58 AM
Poetry by Clark Ashton Smith:


MOONLIGHT

Ambitious of their solitary reign,
Whose many-pointed brilliance fills the sky,
The silver moon doth rise in majesty,
And with her splendor shares the stars' domain.
Now as she takes her lucent course on high,
Her light doth shroud all things in mystery
And subtle glamour. As of realms unknown
It seems--a radiance from worlds that lie
Beyond our ken, and glimpsed in dreams alone.
And in those rays is tender witchery,
Which softly doth erase the scars of day,
And with a pallid beauty touches all.
The Moon's light is a painter's brush, and she
An artist skilled who doth the world array,
In silence, with a white, enchanted pall.



ODE

Your name is like the opening of a flow'r,
The forest's brief and pensive-petalled rose,
Unfolding in a land of larch and pine,
Where shadowy snows
Loiter and sparkle secretly,
Asleep in many a forest-builded bow'r
Made sunless with the close and fragrant vine;
To vanish ere that sultry autumn hour
When the pale grapes are heavy with such wine
As fays of the north might drink
In elfin revelry,
Dancing beneath the ghostly, fluttered gold
Of birches, on some ice-worn ocean-brink,
Where the wide waters hold
Far out, the hue of sapphire-hearted skies
And your sweet eyes.



NIGHTFALL

Low on the lilac breast of eve
The yellow rose of sunset lies...
Beneath my cheek, with little sighs,
I feel thy happy bosom heave.


Ah, darling, let the sun depart,
And night usurp the western hills;
A dearer flame thy bosom fills,
And clearer suns are in my heart.


Love hath no need of other light;
Thy kisses on my lips and eyes,
Are like the dawn in Paradise
That burns upon the lidded sight.


Our bodies find an ecstacy,
A deepening rapture, soft and fair,
Like the blue seas and roseal air
About the isles of Faery.


Thine ardent limbs are mine to hold;
From brow to breast, from knee to side, My kisses and caresses glide,
Like unseen flames of red and gold.

Gorm the Old
Thursday, January 20th, 2005, 03:45 AM
I knew of Clark Ashton Smith as a writer of fantasy stories. I had no idea that he was a poet also, and a very good one. Thank you, Franz Josef.