The morning breaks like a pomegranate
In a shining crack of
red,
Ah, when
tomorrow the dawn comes late
Whitening across the bed,
It will find me watching at the
marriage gate
And
waiting while light is shed
On him who is sleeping satiate,
With a sunk, abandoned
head.
And when the dawn comes creeping in,
Cautiously I shall
raise
Myself to
watch the morning win
My first of days,
As it shows him sleeping a sleep he
got
Of me, as under
my gaze,
He grows
distinct, and I see his hot
Face freed of the wavering
blaze.
Then I shall know which image of God
My man is made
toward,
And I shall
know my bitter rod
Or my rich reward.
And I shall know the stamp and worth
Of the coin I’ve accepted as mine,
Shall see an image of heaven or
of earth
On his
minted metal shine.
Yea and I long to see him sleep
In my power
utterly,
I long to
know what I have to keep,
I long to see
My love, that spinning coin, laid
still
And plain at
the side of me,
For
me to count — for I know he will
Greatly enrichen me.
And then he will be mine, he will lie
In my power
utterly,
Opening his
value plain to my eye
He will sleep of me.
He will lie negligent,
resign
His all to
me, and I
Shall
watch the dawn light up for me
This sleeping wealth of
mine.
And I shall watch the wan light shine
On his sleep that is filled of
me,
On his brow
where the wisps of fond hair twine
So truthfully,
On his lips where the light breaths come and
go
Naïve and
winsomely,
On his
limbs that I shall weep to know
Lie under my mastery.