第26章 POEM: MAGIC

What was the spell she wove for me?

Life was a common useful thing, An eligible building site To hold a house to shelter me.

There were no woodlands whispering;

No unimagined dreams at night About that house had folded wing, Disordering my life for me.

I was so safe until she came With starry secrets in her eyes, And on her lips the word of power.

- Like to the moon of May she came, That makes men mad who were born wise -

Within her hand the only flower Man ever plucked from Paradise;

So to my half-built house she came.

She turned my useful plot of land Into a garden wild and fair, Where stars in garlands hung like flowers:

A moonlit, lonely, lovely land.

Dim groves and glimmering fountains there Embraced a secret bower of bowers, And in its rose-ringed heart we were Alone in that enchanted land.

What was the spell I wove for her, Her mad dear magic to undo?

The red rose dies, the white rose dies, The garden spits me forth with her On the old suburban road I knew.

My house is gone, and by my side A stranger stands with angry eyes And lips that swear I ruined her.