XIX

The luster of the morning shone in you As, with the sun, a lark called up the day. The hours hurried by-a jealous crewCrying that you had been too long away. Here where the trees had made a leafy tent I cradled you, the partner of my flesh. From you my surging heart took nourishment, And each caress was somehow new and fresh.

Reluctantly I shutter out the day

And trim the wick of night against the darkRemembering your laughter and the play Of sunlight on your lips, the teasing spark Of sungold in your eyes-I wonder when, If ever, I shall see you once again.

XX

Now quietly I lay me down to rest;

My work is done and all my prayers are said. Now comes the shining moment that is best: I feel your arms about me and my head Home on your heart. For this the day-star burns To light the world to slumber in the dark. For this the moon, far journeying, returns To place upon this house a silver mark.

That all may know within its listening walls Dwells for a little while a deep content. The beaded hours are told and each recalls Moments of passion and of merriment.

God grant, My Love, that I may sowehow keep This bright dream with me even in dreamless sleep.

XXI

If I could love you less I think that there Would be protection and a planned retreat From this pursuit of deepest passion where My hunger leads me down a lonely street.

I cannot knock on any stranger's door And ask direction back to whence I came.

I must go on until there is no more

Sign of a dwelling that might bear your name.

One sign of habitation in the night:

A clock speaks harshly of the age of time.

Above the stars in their uncaring flight

Wheel through the silver chill of winter rime.

My voice reechoes in a cry of pain:

"When will you take me to your heart again?”

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