THE RAPE OF AURORA

by: George Meredith (1828-1909)

      EVER, O never,
      Since dewy sweet Flora
      Was ravished by Zephyr,
      Was such a thing heard
      In the valleys so hollow!
      Till rosy Aurora,
      Uprising as ever,
      Bright Phosphor to follow,
      Pale Phoebe to sever,
      Was caught like a bird
      To the breast of Apollo!
       
      Wildly she flutters,
      And flushes all over
      With passionate mutters
      Of shame to the hush
      Of his amorous whispers:
      But O such a lover
      Must win when he utters,
      Thro' rosy red lispers,
      The pains that discover
      The wishes that gush
      From the torches of Hesperus.
       
      One finger just touching
      The Orient chamber,
      Unflooded the gushing
      Of light that illumed
      All her lustrous unveiling.
      On clouds of gold amber,
      Her limbs richly blushing,
      She lay sweetly wailing,
      In odours that gloomed
      On the God as he bloomed
      O'er her loveliness paling.
       
      Great Pan in his covert
      Beheld the rare glistening,
      The cry of the love-hurt,
      The sigh and the kiss
      Of the latest close mingling:
      But love, thought he, listening,
      Will not do a dove hurt,
      I know,--and a tingling,
      Latent with bliss,
      Prickt thro' him, I wis,
      For the Nymph he was singling.

"The Rape of Aurora" is reprinted from Poetica Erotica. Ed. T.R. Smith. New York: Crown Publishers, 1921.

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