Venus Transiens

Tell me,Was Venus more beautifulThan you are,When she toppedThe crinkled waves,Drifting shorewardOn her plaited shell?Was Botticelli's visionFairer than mine;And were the painted rosebudsHe tossed his lady,Of better worthThan the words I blow about youTo cover your too great lovelinessAs with a gauzeOf misted silver?

For me,You stand poisedIn the blue and buoyant air,Cinctured by bright winds,Treading the sunlight.And the waves which precede youRipple and stirThe sands at my feet.