Vi

At times thou art the spacious light and air Of all this tranquil morning garden, where Sinuous paths wind in the blue haze Like swans upon the deep blue water-ways. At other times thou art the shivering wind Exultant, cool, Who passes, running fingers light and kind Along the clear brow of the pool. When with thy two hands thou touchest me, I feel the brushing of cool leaves Against my cheek; When midday cleaves The dimness, all the shadows secretly Meditate the words that thou didst speak. So all the hours pass by some sweet grace Of thine, into my heart; And when at last the wan night comes apace And rapt in sleep and still, apart, Thy spirit lies, Feel thro' thy closed eyelids how mine eyes Dwell on thee with a love beyond compare, More humble and more clinging than a prayer.