Godhead’s lip hangs When our pulses have no golden tre… And his whips are flicked by mice And all star-amorous things. Drops, drops of shivering quiet

We curl into your eyes– They drink our files and have neve… In the fierce forest of your hair Our desires beat blindly for their… In your eyes’ subtle pit,

Crazed shadows, from no golden bod… That I can see, embrace me warm ; All is purple and closed Round by night’s arm. A brilliance wings from dark-lit v…

God’s mercy shines ; And our full hearts must make reco… For grief that burst from out its… Into strange sunlit bliss. I stood where glowed

The free fair life that has never… If I were what you seem to be and… I know I walk upon the earth, but… My spirit and your spirit lies, yo… The angels that lie watching us, t…

Dim apprehension of a trust Comes over me this quiet hour, As though the silence were a flowe… And this, its perfume, dark like d… My individual self would cling

I walk and wonder To hear the birds sing, Without you my lady How can there be Spring? I see the pink blossoms

They leave their love-lorn haunts, Their sigh-warm floating Eden; And they are mute at once, Mortals by God unheeden, By their past kisses chidden.

My Maker shunneth me: Even as a wretch stricken with lep… So hold I pestilent supremacy. Yea! He Instil fled far as the ut… Beyond the unperturbed fastnesses…

Streaked with immortal blasphemies… Betwixt His twin eternities The Shaper of mortal destinies Sits in that limbo of dreamless sl… Some nothing that hath shadows dee…

As the pregnant womb of night Thrills with imprisoned light, Misty, nebulous-born, Growing deeper into her morn, So man, with no sudden stride,

Lamp-lit faces, to you What is your starry dew? Gold flowers of the night blue! Deep in wet pavement’s slime Mud-rooted is your fierce prime,

A worm fed on the heart of Corint… Babylon and Rome: Not Paris raped tall Helen, But this incestuous worm, Who lured her vivid beauty

I killed them, but they would not… Yea! all the day and all the night For them I could not rest or slee… Nor guard from them nor hide in fl… Then in my agony I turned

Your ‘ Youth ’ has fallen from it… And you have fallen, you yourself. They knocked a soldier on the head… I mourn the poet who fell dead. And yet I think it was by chance,