IN OCTOBER
IN a shower of ruddy goldFrom a thinning treeJove comes down.Naked, brown,The earth lies Danae.Still she lies with hushed breath;Through each dreaming clodRuns the fireOf desire,Passion of a god.Danae lies in her dark tower.On a March hillsideSprings the wheat—There the feetOf young Perseus stride.
IN a shower of ruddy goldFrom a thinning treeJove comes down.Naked, brown,The earth lies Danae.Still she lies with hushed breath;Through each dreaming clodRuns the fireOf desire,Passion of a god.Danae lies in her dark tower.On a March hillsideSprings the wheat—There the feetOf young Perseus stride.
IN a shower of ruddy goldFrom a thinning treeJove comes down.Naked, brown,The earth lies Danae.
Still she lies with hushed breath;Through each dreaming clodRuns the fireOf desire,Passion of a god.
Danae lies in her dark tower.On a March hillsideSprings the wheat—There the feetOf young Perseus stride.