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| Desdemona |
written by Walter de la Mare
|Poems (1906)||Link to further information|
A stony tomb guards one who simply dreams
Of peace that shines, tho' love went down in storm —
Dreams ever a dark visage stoopeth o'er,
Whose darkness is not hatred but a mask
Love took for tend'rer loving. And when night
Steals thro' the sky to mock Othello, then
Rises she, counting at the windows high
Star after star till all her prayer be told,
And dawn repeat the glory of her end.
But on one day, in affluence of June,
At topmost flood of noon a shadow falls
Sweet at her side, chill head to snowy foot ;
And then it seems the cypresses obscure
Whisper, 'O willow!'; and a shrill bird swoops,
As if the Moor had flown a silver soul
To take her captive at the key of Heaven!
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