Caught in a Net

 Upon her breast her hands and hair 
Were tangled all together.
 
The moon of June forbade me not — 
The golden night time weather 
In balmy sighs commanded me 
To kiss them like a feather.
 

Her looming hair, her burning hands, 
Were tangled black and white.
 
My face I buried there.
 I pray — 
So far from her to-night — 
For grace, to dream I kiss her soul 
Amid the black and white.

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