Tonight looked as the Miramar did

Reading through the rages which twilight hid

Twinge of white and red bound together easy for sight

In that steam night of Miramar’s light.

Arabesques and arches resounding Caesar’s ring

In lands unimaginable by both Moor and King.

Wherefore is wood and wherefore the ardour

In this land of men rapt by endless plastic labour?

When the grasses sang a yellow-violet display

the swamp’s faeries rose from the ether to play

Whilst I discoursed long with holy prophet and stain’d ba’al

Till a new golden heat wrought out blue atlantic day.

The rolling of dew from a palm’s face embracing the sky

Watching a peacock’s violent beak clipped

And bleeding, cocking till it shall die.

The miramar’s sights bound red and in feathers iridescent.