'A sun, a shadow of a magnitude,'
So Keats has written- yet what, truly, could
Come closer to pure godhead than a sun,
...
I have been dying a long time
In this cool valley-land, this green bowl ringed by hills-
The cup of a giant flower whose petals are
...
The lightning flashed, and lifted
The lids of heaven apart,
The fiery thunder rolled you
All night long through my heart.
...
The air is full of dawn and spring;
Outside the room I see
A swallow, like a shaft of light,
Shift sideways suddenly.
...
Your body’s motion is like music;
Her stride ecstatical and bright
Moves to the rhythm of dumb music,
The unheard music of delight.
...
Even as a hawk's in the large heaven's hollow
Are the great ways and gracious of your love,
No lesser heart or wearier wing may follow
...
Light, that out of the west looked back once more
Through lids of cloud, has closed a sleepy eye;
...
Give me your pitiful, soft hand, and lay
Your cheek against my shoulder, let your head
...
The night is measureless, no voice, no cry,
Pierces the dark in which the planet swings --
It is the shadow of her bulk that flings
...
Evening- and I, in the hour before sleep,
Lean out once more, and stare
Skyward, at you, bright star, deep, deep
...