DEMON LOVERS

The peacock and the mocking-bird
Cry forever in her breast;
Public libraries have blurred
The pages of his palimpset.

He wanders lonely as a cloud
In chevelure of curled perruque;
Masked assassins in a crowd
Strangle the uxorious duke.

Castilian facing Lucifer,
Juan does not remove his cap;
Unswaddled infantile to her
His soul lies kicking in her lap.

While she, transported by the wind,
Mercutio has clasped and kissed...
Like quicksilver, her absent mind
Evades them both, and is not missed.

Elinor Wylie (1885-1928)