forehead

Thou hast shaken the snows from thy wings, and the frost on thy

forehead is molten: thy lips are aglow

As a lover's that kindle with kissing, and earth, with her raiment

As Love’s star when it riseth!

Do but mark, her forehead’s smoother

Than words that soothe her!

If long she stays, to think the time more short,

Lay down thy forehead in thy lap to snort.

Inquire not what with Isis may be done,

Flounce like a fish in his own element,

Toss back his fine curls from their forehead fair,

And hop o'er counters with a Vester's air,

A woman kneeling, knelt beside the woman,

And put her hand upon the woman's forehead

To find that it was wrinkled, strange to say

In your full throat and lidded the long eye

So roundly from the forehead, will let lie

Broken, forgotten, under foot some day

Is hushed, and answers to no calling;

The forehead and the little ears

Have gone where Saturn keeps the years;

Out of a grave I come to quench the kiss

That flames upon your forehead with a glow

That blinds you to the way that you must go.