This page has been validated.
The mild outline of dune,
The lake, the silver magic in the trees:
Walls, you are one with these.
***
Up on the loggia-roof,
Under stars pale as they,
Two silent ones have crept away,
Seeking the deeper silence lovers know;
Into the drifting shadows of the night,
Into the aching beauty of the night
They dare to go.
The lake, the silver magic in the trees:
Walls, you are one with these.
***
Up on the loggia-roof,
Under stars pale as they,
Two silent ones have crept away,
Seeking the deeper silence lovers know;
Into the drifting shadows of the night,
Into the aching beauty of the night
They dare to go.
The moon
Is a vast cocoon,
Spinning her wild white thread
Across the sky;
A thousand crickets croon
Their sharp-edged lullaby;
I hear a murmuring of lips on lips:
"All that I am, beloved—
All—"
(Lovers' eternal cry!)
Hold them still closer, wall!
***
You stand serene.
The salt winds linger, lean
Upon your breast;
The mist
Lifts up a gray face to be kissed;
Is a vast cocoon,
Spinning her wild white thread
Across the sky;
A thousand crickets croon
Their sharp-edged lullaby;
I hear a murmuring of lips on lips:
"All that I am, beloved—
All—"
(Lovers' eternal cry!)
Hold them still closer, wall!
***
You stand serene.
The salt winds linger, lean
Upon your breast;
The mist
Lifts up a gray face to be kissed;
61
