A Maudle-in Ballad

My lank limp lily, my long lithe lily,
My languid lily-love, fragile and thin,
With dank leaves dangling and flower-flap chilly,
That shines like the skin of a Highland gilly!
Mottled and moist as a cold toad's skin!
Lustrous and leper-white, splendid and splay!
Art thou not utter? and wholly akin
To my own wan soul and my own wan chin,
And my own wan nose-tip, like to sway
The peacock's feather, sweeter than sin,
That I bought for a halfpenny, yesterday!

My long lithe lily, my languid lily,
My lank limp lily-love, how shall I win!--
Woo thee to wink at me? Silver lily,
How shall I sing to thee, softly, or shrilly?
What shall I weave for thee--which shall I spin--
Rondel, or rondeau, or virelay?
Shall I bee-like buzz, with my face thrust in
Thy choice, chaste chalice, or choose me a tin
Trumpet, or touchingly, tenderly play
On the weird bird-whistle, sweeter than sin,
That I bought for a halfpenny, yesterday?

My languid lily, my lank limp lily,
My long lithe lily-love, men may grin--
Say that I'm soft and supremely silly--
What care I, while you whisper stilly;
What care I, while you smile? Not a pin!
While you smile, while you whisper--'Tis sweet to decay!
I have watered with chlorodine tears of chagrin,
The churchyard would I have planted thee in
Upside down, in an intense way
In a round flowerpot, sweeter than sin,
That I bought for a halfpenny, yesterday.
Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.