FOUR POEMS
I
O Thou to whom the musical white spring
offers her lily inextinguishable,
taught by thy tremulous grace bravely to fling
Implacable death's mysteriously sable
robe from her redolent shoulders,
Thou from whose
feet reincarnate song suddenly leaping
flameflung, mounts, inimitably to lose
herself where the wet stars softly are keeping
their exquisite dreams—O Love! upon: thy dim
shrine of intangible commemoration,
(from whose faint close as some grave languorous hymn
pledged to illimitable dissipation
unhurried clouds of incense fleetly roll)
i spill my bright incalculable soul.
II
perhaps it is to feel strike
the silver fish of her nakedness
with fins sharply pleasant, my
youth has travelled toward her these years
or to snare the timid like
of her mind to my mind that i
