My mistress eyes are nothing like the sun
From over dale wherest thy ray do burn
Open thy womb for my heirs to be born
Cast from my shadow an art of a son
Pout thy piteous lips that tickles my wink
Unwear thy robe; set thy apple' my gaze
Path to damnation do peril embrace
Such lofty pike, not even at the brink.
Humble thyself to the wooes of my veins
Let our mortal parts acquaint till moon worn'
Make ominous cries of relishes and pains
O fair night, shot thy eyes; be not a thorn.
Let the echoes of my kisses be heard
And let constellations form round a gird.
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Comments about this poem (Lascivious Woman by Folayemi Akande )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1878 - 3 May 1916)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
(22 August 1893 - 7 June 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 August 1880 – 9 November 1918)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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