i have found what you are like

i have found what you are like
���� the rain,

��� (Who feathers frightened fields
with the superior dust-of-sleep. wields

easily the pale club of the wind
and swirled justly souls of flower strike

the air in utterable coolness

deeds of green thrilling light
�������� ������������������������������with thinned

newfragile yellows

���� ������������������������������lurch and.press

-in the woods
��� ����������������which
���� ��������������������������������stutter
����� �������������������������������������������and

�������� ��������������� �������������������������������������sing

And the coolness of your smile is
stirringofbirds between my arms;but
i should rather than anything
have(almost when hugeness will shut
quietly)almost,
������ ���������������������your kiss

since feeling is first

since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;

wholly to be a fool
while spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. don't cry
- the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says

we are for each other; then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph

and death i think is no parenthesis

up into the silence the green

up into the silence the green
silence with a white earth in it

you will (kiss me) go

out into the morning the young
morning with a warm world in it

(kiss me) you will go

on into the sunlight the fine
sunlight with a firm day in it

you will go (kiss me

down into your memory and
a memory and memory

i) kiss me (will go)

it may not always be so; and i say

it may not always be so; and i say
that if your lips,which i have loved, should touch
another's, and your dear strong fingers clutch
his heart, as mine in time not so faraway;
if on anothers face your sweet hair lay
in such a silence as i know, or such
great writhing words as , uttering overmuch,
stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;

if this should be,i say if this should be-
you of my heart,send me a little word;
that i may go unto him,and take his hands,
saying, accept all happiness from me.
then shall i turn my face,and hear one bird
sing terribly afar in the lost lands.

it is at moments after i have dreamed

it is at moments after i have dreamed
of the rare entertainment of your eyes,
when (being fool to fancy)i have deemed

with your peculiar mouth my heart made wise;
at moments when the glassy darkness holds

the genuine apparition of your smile
(it was through tears always)and silence moulds
such strangeness as was mine a little while;

moments when my once more illustrious arms
are filled with fascination,when my breast
wears the intolerant brightness of your charms:

one pierced moment whiter than the rest

-turning from the tremendous lie of sleep
i watch the roses of the day grow deep.