Girl To Soldier On Leave

I love you, Titan lover, My own storm-days’ Titan. Greater than the son of Zeus, I know whom I would choose.

Titan—my splendid rebel— The old Prometheus Wanes like a ghost before your power: His pangs were joys to yours.

Pallid days, arid and wan, Tied your soul fast: Babel-cities’ smoky tops Pressed upon your growth

Weary gyves. What were you But a word in the brain’s ways, Or the sleep of Circe’s swine? One gyve holds you yet.

It held you hiddenly on the Somme Tied from my heart at home: O must it loosen now? I wish You were bound with the old, old gyves.

Love! You love me—your eyes Have looked through death at mine. You have tempted a grave too much. I let you—I repine.