RYE BREAD
Father John’s bread was made of rye,Felicite’s bread was white;Father John loved the sun noon-high,Felicite, the moon at night.
Father John drank wine with his bread;Felicite drank sweet milk;Father John loved flowers, pungent and red;Felicite, lilies soft as silk.
Father John’s soul was made of bronze,That God’s salt was corroding;Felicite’s soul was a wind that runsWith a blue flame of foreboding.
Between these two was the shadow of a domeThat cut their lives in twain;But Dionysus led them homeIn a chariot of pain.