By little accurate saints thickly which tread
by little accurate saints thickly which tread
the serene nervous light of paradise —
by angelfaces clustered like bright lice
about god's capable dull important head —
by on whom glories whisperingly impinge
(god's pretty mother) but may not confuse
the clever hair nor rout the young mouth whose
lips begin a smile exactly strange —
this painter should have loved my lady.
And by this throat a little suddenly lifted
in singing — hands fragile whom almost tire
the sleepshaped lilies —
should my lady's body
with these frail ladies dangerously respire:
impeccable girls in raiment laughter-gifted.
the serene nervous light of paradise —
by angelfaces clustered like bright lice
about god's capable dull important head —
by on whom glories whisperingly impinge
(god's pretty mother) but may not confuse
the clever hair nor rout the young mouth whose
lips begin a smile exactly strange —
this painter should have loved my lady.
And by this throat a little suddenly lifted
in singing — hands fragile whom almost tire
the sleepshaped lilies —
should my lady's body
with these frail ladies dangerously respire:
impeccable girls in raiment laughter-gifted.
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