The Poetry Corner

Echoes

By John Collings Squire, Sir

There is a far unfading city Where bright immortal people are; Remote from hollow shame and pity, Their portals frame no guiding star But blightless pleasure's moteless rays That follow their footsteps as they dance Long lutanied measures through a maze Of flower-like song and dalliance. There always glows the vernal sun, There happy birds for ever sing, There faint perfumed breezes run Through branches of eternal spring; There faces browned and fruit and milk And blue-winged words and rose-bloomed kisses In galleys gowned with gold and silk Shake on a lake of dainty blisses. Coyness is not, nor bear they thought, Save of a shining gracious flow; All natural joys are temperate sought. For calm desire there they know, A fire promiscuous, languorous, kind; They scorn all fiercer lusts and quarrels, Nor blow about on anger's wind, Nor burn with love, nor rust with morals. Folk in the far unfading city, Burning with lusts my senses are, I am torn with love and shame and pity, Be to my heart a guiding star: Wise youths and maidens in the sun, With eyes that charm and lips that sing, And gentle arms that rippling run, Shed on my heart your endless spring!