White and skyey visitant,

Bringing beauty such as stings

All my inner soul to pant

After undiscovered things,

Spare me this consummate pain!

Silken weavings intercreep

Round my senses once again,

I am mortal—let me sleep.

{6}

{6}

Pine Needles

HERE where the pine tree to the ground

H

Lets slip its fragrant load,

My footsteps fall without a sound

Upon a velvet road.

O poet pine, that turns thy gaze

Alone unto the sky,

How softly on earth’s common ways

Thy sweet thoughts fall and lie!

 Prev. P 4/78 next