Love Is The Last Relay And Ultimate

Look In My Face; My Name Is Might-have-been; I Am Also Call'd No-more, Too-late, Farewell.

And Love, Our Light At Night And Shade At Noon,lulls Us To Rest With Songs, And Turns Awayall Shafts Of Shelterless Tumultuous Day.

Her Hair That Lay Along Her Back Was Yellow Like Ripe Corn.

I Plucked A Honeysuckle Where The Hedge On High Is Quick With Thorn, And Climbing For The Prize, Was Torn, And Fouled My Feet In Quag-water; And By The Thorns And By The Wind The Blossom That I Took Was Thinn'd, And Yet I Found It Sweet And Fair.

Deep In The Sun-searched Growths The Dragon-fly Hangs Like A Blue Thread Loosened From The Sky: So This Winged Hour Is Dropt To Us From Above. Oh! Clasp We To Our Hearts, For Deathless Dower, This Close-companioned Inarticulate Hour When Twofold Silence Was The Song Of Love.