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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
SEPHINA, by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Black lacqueys at the wide-flung door Last Line: Was ever cheek so wan? Alternate Author Name(s): Ramal, Walter; De La Mare, Walter | |||
Black lacqueys at the wide-flung door Stand mute as men of wood. Gleams like a pool the ball-room floor -- A burnished solitude. A hundred waxen tapers shine From silver sconces; softly pine 'Cello, fiddle, mandoline, To music deftly wooed -- And dancers in cambric, satin, silk, With glancing hair and cheeks like milk, Wreathe, curtsey, intertwine. The drowse of roses lulls the air That's wafted up the marble stair. Like warbling water clucks the talk. From room to room in splendour walk Guests, smiling in the silken sheen; Carmine and azure, white and green, They stoop and languish, pace and preen Bare shoulder, painted fan, Gemmed wrist and finger, neck of swan; And still the plucked strings warble on; Still from the snow-bowered, link-lit street The muffled hooves of horses beat; And harness rings; and foam-flecked bit Clanks as the slim heads toss and stare From deep, dark eyes. Smiling, at ease, Mount to the porch the pomped grandees In lonely state, by twos, and threes, Exchanging languid courtesies, While torches fume and flare. And now the banquet calls. A blare Of squalling trumpets clots the air; And, flocking out, streams up the rout; And lilies nod to velvet's swish. And peacocks prim on gilded dish, Vast pies thick-glazed, and gaping fish, Towering confections crisp as ice, Jellies aglare like cockatrice, With thousand savours tongues entice. Fruits of all hues, too, shape and bloom -- Pomegranate, quince and peach and plum, Nectarine, grape, and cherry clear And knotted pine -- each leaf a spear. . . And lo! -- 'La, la! Mamma, mamma! More marvellous lovely than a star I see you standing there!. . .' 'Fie, fie Sephina! not in bed!' Couched on the staircase overhead Like ghost she gloats, her lean hand laid On alabaster balustrade, And gazes on and on; Down on that wondrous to and fro Till finger and foot are cold as snow And half the night is gone; And dazzled eyes are sore bestead, Nods drowsily the sleek-locked head: And, faint and far, spins, fading out That rainbow-coloured, reeling rout And, with faint sighs, her spirit flies Into deep sleep. . . . Come, Stranger, peep! Was ever cheek so wan? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ALONE (2) by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE AN EPITAPH by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE ARABIA by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE BUNCHES OF GRAPES by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE ECHO by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE ENGLAND (2) by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE FARE WELL by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE FIVE EYES by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE JOHN MOULDY by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE MOTLEY by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE |
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