Slow Smoke/Frail Beauty
FRAIL BEAUTY
O molten dewdrop, trembling in the light Of dawn, and clinging to the brookmint-blade— A pendent opal on a breast of jade—How came your splendor, so limpid and so bright?How your clear symmetry? And what weird sleight Of art suffused you with each rainbow-shade, Captured your evanescent hour, and madeA quivering soul from fire and mist and night?
Fleeting your span! Yet I shall be content To let the Cosmic Power that built in youSuch frail wet beauty, such luster opulent, And such immortal life as lies in dew,Fashion the fragile moment of my soulIn what frail shape It deems a perfect whole.