At_Last

Apollogia G.F.E. McGuiness

From these arms She fled Of life's bouquet to floral wreath As Daphne, wood. Apollo wed Adorned in laurel grief On sadly finished race Transubstantiated games of good. My unrelented grasp of leaves Supplanting wind disordered tresses, Lofted late to lovely stem Hollow of caresses. Of flesh not spawn of Zeus's sins, Or breath of Boreas, Mortal winds, Sundered heart, So golden missile maimed, Trims resplendent branches Leadened arrow claimed. Her warmth displaced Of love's embrace, Attachment of eternity, I, frigid, oaken, Pine of her, Whose mistletoe did garnish me.

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