So may you fly from here my songs.
Wherever seek your places I shan't reach
Go to sail beyond these shores
And raise on seas of music;
Whilst she posed, prettifying melancholia
the rest were wearing it alternately;
lost wayfaring days ‘midst lapsing degradation.
Her sphinx-like enigmas,
Silk yarn of stone entangled by remembrance
Your beauty swept me London's streets in shy romance.
Afraid I feared my words might trouble your serenity;
From Chaucer's ‘Against Women Unconstant'
Lo! in her obsessiveness
Many a man has lost his grace.
Rise above, sing again, sweet Nightingale
With Whistling wings through forests assail.
Unbeknown, go, fly alone, cantillate desires