Xvi

I bathe in thy two eyes my soul entire, As tho' in purest water it were laid, And in their sanctities I quench its fire That tempered and more keen it may be made. Oh, to join in utter purity, As two stain'd windows, smitten by the sun, Mingle their lights in separate clarity And melt to one!

I am sometimes impatient of my lot As being one who has not and can not Attain the perfectness he would espouse; My heart beats on the bars that are its vows-- My heart whose evil blossoms push their way Between the rocks of blind brutality And flaunt shamefacedly Their swarthy flow'rs in sinister array. My heart so false--so true--as change the years, My heart of very contradiction made-- Exaggerating heart where merge and shade Immensities of joy and startl'd fears.