Across a huge gulf I fling my voice And my desires together: Across a huge gulf ... on the other bank Crouches April with her hair as smooth and straight and brown As falling waters. Oh brave curve upwards and outwards. Oh despair of the downward tilting-- Despair still beautiful As a great star one has watched all night Wheeling down under the hills. Silence widens and darkens; Voice and desires have dropped out of sight. I am all alone, dreaming she would come and kiss me. THE FLOWERS Day after day, At spring's return, I watch my flowers, how they burn Their lives away. The candle crocus And daffodil gold Drink fire of the sunshine-- Quickly cold. And the proud tulip-- How red he glows!-- Is quenched ere summer Can kindle the rose. Purple as the innermost Core of a sinking flame, Deep in the leaves the violets smoulder To the dust whence they came. Day after day At spring's return, I watch my flowers, how they burn Their lives away, Day after day ... THE ELMS Fine as the dust of plumy fountains blowing Across the lanterns of a revelling night, The tiny leaves of April's earliest growing Powder the trees--so vaporously light, They seem to float, billows of emerald foam Blown by the South on its bright airy tide, Seeming less trees than things beatified, Come from the world of thought which was their home. For a while only. Rooted strong and fast, Soon will they lift towards the summer sky Their mountain-mass of clotted greenery. Their immaterial season quickly past, They grow opaque, and therefore needs must die, Since every earth to earth returns at last. OUT OF THE WINDOW