T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
Sapphic Ode XXXIII: Maids, not to you my mind doth change
By Michael Field (Katherine Harris Bradley) (18461914)(From Long Ago, 1889) MAIDS, not to you my mind doth change; | |
Men I defy, allure, estrange, | |
Prostrate, make bond or free: | |
Soft as the stream beneath the plane | |
To you I sing my love’s refrain; | 5 |
Between us is no thought of pain, | |
Peril, satiety. | |
Soon doth a lover’s patience tire, | |
But ye to manifold desire | |
Can yield response, ye know | 10 |
When for long, museful days I pine, | |
The presage at my heart divine; | |
To you I never breathed a sign | |
Of inward want or woe. | |
When injuries my spirit bruise, | 15 |
Allaying virtue ye infuse | |
With unobtrusive skill: | |
And if care frets ye come to me | |
As fresh as nymph from stream or tree, | |
And with your soft vitality | 20 |
My weary bosom fill. | |