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GLOIRE DE DIJON
 WHEN she rises in the morning      I linger to watch her;
     She spreads the bath-cloth underneath1 the window
     And the sunbeams catch her
     Glistening white on the shoulders,
     While down her sides the mellow2
     Golden shadow glows as
     She stoops to the sponge, and her swung breasts
     Sway like full-blown yellow
     Gloire de Dijon roses.
 
     She drips herself with water, and her shoulders
     Glisten as silver, they crumple3 up
     Like wet and falling roses, and I listen
     For the sluicing4 of their rain-dishevelled petals5.
     In the window full of sunlight
     Concentrates her golden shadow
     Fold on fold, until it glows as
     Mellow as the glory roses.
 
      ICKING
ROSES ON THE BREAKFAST
     TABLE
 
     JUST a few of the roses we gathered from the Isar
     Are fallen, and their mauve-red petals on the
        cloth
............
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