Ix

My pleasant work by open windows wide, With shadow of green leafage from out-side And path of the sun's light Across my paper white, Maintains a gentle violence, A sense Of silence in our kindly, pensive house.

Vividly the flowers lean, And glowing fruits among the boughs are seen, Birds on boughs and birds upon the wing Chant and sing In order that my verse may ring Clear and new, pure and trues As song of birds, And gold of fruits and petals blossoming.

Down in the garden there I see you pass, Over the sunny and the shady grass; But you do not look at me, Lest you trouble my tranquillity, As here with jealous heart I fashion Poems of a frank and tender passion.