fingers slowly lift—
       It is faintly masked
  With a tremulous smile. You have brought me a gift,
       Your love, unasked.

  Could you trust my reckless hands so much?
       With no vow spoken,
  You gave me a goblet, which at a touch
       Were utterly broken!
  Your smile replied: "Since the glass was filled
       It little mattered
  Whether the wine were drunk or spilled
       Or the goblet shattered."

The Bridge

  I walk the bridge of hours from dawn till night
  My heart beating so loud in joyous wonder
  To know your love, that I can scarcely breathe;
  But in the lonely darkness, with affright
  I faintly hear, like ominous, distant thunder
  The unseen ocean surging close beneath.

  Our bridge so frail, eternity so vast!
  When we must sink into the deep at last
  Heart of my heart, will you still hold me fast?

A Temple

I. DOORWAY

  Carven angels
  On the portals,
  Angels with crowns, and eagles
  And golden lions
  On the door.

  This is why
  The alien worshippers went their way,
  Why you alone discovered
  The gates were open.

  You touched the velvet curtains behind them,
  They parted to let you pass.

II. WINDOW

  I make a window
  Of you, beloved,
  Through which the sun colours
  The silence.

  Even your absences
  Are spaces I have filled
  With sapphire;

  Your denials
  Are burning gold,
  I have painted your reluctance
  Emerald green:

  Your silences
  Are crimson
  On which your words make delicate
  Black tracery.

  As for me,
  My will is the grey lead
  Which I have bent to hold the coloured
  Panes of you.

III. SPIRE

  My wish goes singing upward
  Holding a chime of bells
  In its heart:

  Pigeons know my silent bells,
  Winds touch them and wonder.

  That they might reach
  That high blue—

  Till star fingers touch them
  Ever so gently—

  And drifting clouds
  Lay cool cheeks against them—

  My wish goes singing upward
  Reaching into silence.

IV. PRIEDIEU

  Beauty passes
  But dust is eternal.
  Outside the temple
  Beauty dies in the wind.

  So when my temple is fallen
  And lies in dust,
  Where then will be the memory
  Of your beauty?

  I pray my dust
  That it may hold your image
  Tomorrow and for ever.

V. FESTIVAL

  The beloved is returning,
  Let the bells ring!

  I too am a tower
  Hung with bronze bells,

  I too am a bell
  Chiming to the winds,

  I too am the wind
  Ringing to the hills,

  I too am the hills
  Singing to the sky.

  I too am the sky!
  The beloved is returning,
  Let the bells ring!

VI. DUSK

  There is no soul too poor to build a temple
  Where it may go apart
  And worship darkness.

  For out of darkness
  Images shine… and fade…

  Since now there is no worship nor any music,
  Let incense be a curved smile
  On lips that remember,
  And candles, notes of laughter
  In empty dusk.

  Above,
  A coloured window slowly turns
  Black to the night.

VII. RUINS

  Temples have fallen
  Before today,
  Stones are ever loosening their hold
  One on another…

  You blocks of marble, sleeping in the sun,
  Can you remember chiming bells
  And incense?

  Now there is only silence,
  Even the winged stones of archways
  Sleep in peace.

Candles

  Silence is but the golden frame
       That holds your face,
  My thoughts, like unblown candle-flame
       In a holy place
  Surround you. From this secret shrine
       Somewhere apart
  Do you not feel my candles shine
       Upon your heart?

Winter Night

  The I that does not love you
  I have kept hidden away
  In the dark.

  (I never dreamed
  There was a You
  That does not love me!)

Tonight they met.

  I hear their words
  Falling like icicles
  Upon me…
  I am frozen in terror…
  Have they killed the You
  That Loves me?

  Beloved, can you hear me
  Through the bitter sound
  Of icicles falling?
  Can you see me from behind
  Your frozen eyes?

Last Days

I

  Shall I pretend
  These days are just like other days?
  One cannot spend
  Every day for seven weeks
  Saying good-bye.

  So when I must
  I speak of your departure casually
  As though it were a hundred years away;
  As Youth is wont to say:
  "Sometime we all must die!"

II

  We talk of all the happy things we have done,
  We pass them in review,
  "Do you remember?" is often on our lips.

  One by one
  We touch our memories and put them all away—
  How shall I dare to look at them
  When you are gone!

III

  There is no beginning to my love
  Nor any end—
  It is about your head
  Like the deep air,
  More than your breath can spend.
  Oft is about your heart
  Like arms of faith—
  Where you go, it is there.

IV

  There are no last things to say,
  What promise can I make?
  You know my love so well.
  All that I have is yours to take.
  (How will it be, with part of me away,
  Must not my soul be changed?)

  Shall I stay young for memory's sake?
  Shall I be old and grave and grey?
  If I might choose, how could I tell!

V

  The You I know
  I shall not see again,
  A stranger will return.

  How shall I win the love
  Which he has kept apart
  With a blurred image which once was I?

  I shall not know his heart,
  How can I learn?

Sorrow

  Sorrow stands in a wide place,
  Blind—blind—
  Beauty and joy are petals blown