Jerome Brooke Biography

Near the centre, near Saint Peters,
Stands the Crystal palace,
In the palace, near the silver fountain,
Sleeps our Queen, all in lace.
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Dark waves rise, then race at the shore,
Black nights of the soul.
At sea, pale clouds, and mist, hide memory,
Moments of joy, and sorrow.
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Dancer, spinning in silk, turn to me,
I do burn.
Lady in black, Maid of Fire, burn me,
Come, return.
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Wolves dance in circles of stone,
Children of Darkness.
Maidens spin, turn for the Lady,
Queen and High Priestess.
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Our Lady of Wolves, soft and kind,
Dance with us, brave one.
Run, leader of hunters, cruel and swift,
Slay her, the waiting, swift deer.
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