Collected Poems - Sri Aurobindo Ashram

Incomplete Poems 59
The artist Grace who limned her fair
With moist and liberal brush,
Painted a glory in her hair
And mixed a gorgeous blush
To tint her cheeks with flowery bloom,
To touch her lips with scarlet fire, —
An empire’s beauty in small room,
A vision of desire.
A fairy witch by painful charms
Had burgeoned this refulgent flower,
Embraced by wild and wanton arms
In weird and midnight hour.
She on the amber milk of bees
By magic mother nursed,
In laurel-sheltered libraries
Cons rudiments accurst,
The most familiar things of hell,
The mightiest names inherits,
And learns what iron syllable
Compels reluctant spirits.
A perilous thorn on fire with bloom,
A poppied spell, an empress snake,
She rose, the alchemist of doom,
The Lady of the Lake.