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The Change Post by :colinjin Category :Poems Author :Rachel Annand Taylor Date :November 2011 Read :3482

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The Change

I spun my soul about with soft cocoons
Of pleasure golden-pale. For me, for me
Were precious things put forth by crescent moons,
Of pearl and milky jade and ivory.
Grave players on ethereal harpsichords,
My senses wrought a music exquisite
As patterned roses, all my life's accords
Were richer, ghostlier than peacocks white.
So in my paradise reserved and fair
I grew as dreamlike as the Elysian dead;
Until a passing Wizard smote me there,
And suddenly my soul inherited
Some gorgeous terrible dukedom of desire
Like those in bright Andromeda's realms of fire.





(The end)
Rachel Annand Taylor's poem: Change

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