ABSTRACT
Frederick William Rolfe (Baron Corvo). From The Art Review, April 1890, vol. 1, no. 4. (As dainty a sight as I wish to see.) Drifting along in a boat we were On the coast of the land of the kilted knee, Under the sea-cliffs’ shadows, where A flock of boys, slender and débonnaire, Laugh in a lovely disarray, Fear they know not, nor ever a care The boys who bathe in St. Andrew’s Bay Deep blue water as blue can be, Rocks rising high where the red clouds flare, Boys of the colour of ivory, Breasting the wavelets, and diving there, White boys, ruddy, and tanned, and bare, With lights and shadows of rose and grey, And the sea like pearls in their shining hair, The boys who bathe in St. Andrew’s Bay. A summer night, and a sapphire sea, A setting sun, and a golden glare: Hurled from the height where the wild rocks be, Wondrous limbs in the luminous air, Fresh as white flame, flushed and fair, Little round arms in the salt sea spray, And the sea seems alive with them everywhere, The boys who bathe in St. Andrew’s Bay. Envoy Andrea! Set me out tinctures rare Give me a palette, and while I may I’ll fix upon canvas, if so I may dare, The boys who bathe in St. Andrew’s Bay.
