<h2><SPAN name="page115"></SPAN><span class="pagenum"></span>ÆSTHETIC</h2>
<p class="poetry">In a garb that was guiltless of colours<br/>
She stood, with a dull, listless air—<br/>
A creature of dumps and of dolours,<br/>
But most undeniably fair.</p>
<p class="poetry">The folds of her garment fell round her,<br/>
Revealing the curve of each limb;<br/>
Well proportioned and graceful I found her,<br/>
Although quite alarmingly slim.</p>
<p class="poetry">From the hem of her robe peeped one
sandal—<br/>
“High art” was she down to her feet;<br/>
And though I could not understand all<br/>
She said, I could see she was sweet.</p>
<p class="poetry">Impressed by her limpness and languor,<br/>
I proffered a chair near at hand;<br/>
She looked back a mild sort of anger—<br/>
Posed anew, and continued to stand.</p>
<p class="poetry"><SPAN name="page116"></SPAN><span class="pagenum">p.
116</span>Some praises I next tried to mutter<br/>
Of the fan that she held to her face;<br/>
She said it was “utterly utter,”<br/>
And waved it with languishing grace.</p>
<p class="poetry">I then, in a strain quite poetic,<br/>
Begged her gaze on the bow in the sky,<br/>
She looked—said its curve was
“æsthetic.”<br/>
But the “tone was too dreadfully
high.”</p>
<p class="poetry">Her lovely face, lit by the splendour<br/>
That glorified landscape and sea,<br/>
Woke thoughts that were daring and tender:<br/>
Did <i>her</i> thoughts, too, rest upon me?</p>
<p class="poetry">“Oh, tell me,” I cried, growing
bolder,<br/>
“Have I in your musings a place?”<br/>
“Well, yes,” she said over her shoulder:<br/>
“I was thinking of nothing in
space.”</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />
1 of 2
2 of 2
Previous
Next
Update Required
To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.