Our Two Souls Therefore Which Are One,

Love Is A Growing, Or Full Constant Light; And His First Minute, After Noon, Is Night.

For Love All Love Of Other Sights Controls And Makes One Little Room An Everywhere

For I Am Every Dead Thing In Whom Love Wrought New Alchemy For His Art Did Express A Quintessence Even From Nothingness, From Dull Privations, And Lean Emptiness He Ruined Me, And I Am Re-begot Of Absence, Darkness, Death; Things Which Are Not.

More Than Kisses, Letters Mingle Souls.

Yesternight The Sun Went Hence, And Yet Is Here Today.