Oft in the groping night I am afraid, For this, mine opaque organism, seems A glass, a mere reflex of trooping dreams-- A polished boss where images parade. And to see these doth make my senses cold-- This globe become a visionary face-- This little spinning soul of me--in space-- I dare not think of what that space may hold! Such thoughts are as the charnel mists that rise From feverish and mortuary ground Thru which one sees the country all around-- Yet near, the dead--and far away, the skies. But at the thought of you my life expands Until it holds all life within its hands! SCEPTIC I This hour has shut us like a tent From all but night; we two, alone, So close, so poignantly alert, have grown, That trivial speech, from silence rent, Breaks off--a useless instrument. For all the opening world is ours, And you, tho scarce a woman yet, Your eyes with feasts of lights and vintage set, Hold all the dewy wealth of flowers, And gold of Babylonian towers. Our lives will alter if we move-- It were so easy now to rise And tell my unimpassioned soul it lies-- And claim youth's heritage of love, Let bald life prove what it may prove! It were so easy to conceive Your lack my lack would compensate-- And by one stroke undo the knot of fate; It were so easy to believe The lies that such a thing could weave! Or shall I stumble through the night Biting my lips to hold the tears Because your incommunicable years Must spend their summer of delight Without my reach--beyond my sight? The house is still; the midnight seems Inscrutable--no answer there. Oh God!--to break this tension of despair. Between us the calm lamplight streams-- "Good night!" and "Pleasant dreams!"--yes--dreams. II I would I had lain with my love to-night; Her eyes trembled for her body said, "I have smoothed a pillow and made a bed"-- But I smiled against it And turned away my head To come into the cold starlight. I would I had lain with my love to-night, For I know how flowers are shed, And the cynical scintillant stars are dead-- Dead, dead utterly! Yet I turned away my head To come into the cold starlight. I would I had lain with my love to-night! Oh, indolent Gods, we too can tread On the silent spirits, the uncomforted! She did not reproach me, Tho I turned away my head And came into the starlight. III Love (as a cloud on the sea Hung between poles of blue) Hangs in the heart of me Between the eyes of you. Love, as a cloud on the sea, Claims the tears of two.