And eel naked-bladed eyes

    Searcabbed it through,

    to find

    A  face,

    If not h,

    Sruggled for her ordinary calm

    And missed it ratold me not to shrink,

    As if sold me not to lie or swear, --

    `Soo

    As long as I deserved it. Very kind.

    [Book 5]

    AURORA LEIGh, be humble. Shall I hope

    to speak my poems in mysterious tune

    iture ? -- he lava-lymph

    t trickles from successive galaxies

    Still drop by drop adohe finger of God

    In still nehis ?

    t scarce dare breatiful ?--

    itrouble in the ground,

    tormented by ts,

    And softly pricked by golden crocus-sheaves

    In token of t-time of flowers ?--

    iters and umns, -- and beyond,

    its large seasons, w hopes

    And fears, joys, grieves, and loves ? --  strain

    Of sexual passion, whe flesh

    In a sacrament of souls ? s

    ures here,

    throb luminous and harmonious like pure spheres ? --

    ititudinous life, and finally

    it escapings of ecstatic souls,

    oo long prisoned flame,

    t faces upward, burn away

    the body, issuing on a world,

    Beyond our mortal ? -- can I speak my verse

    Sp plainly in tune to t,

    t men s catche quick,

    As  over them

    to hey will or no,

    Alike imperious as thm

    Of t ture ? I must fail,

    to hold and move

    One man, -- and he my cousin, and he my friend,

    And ender,