THE sun immense and rosyMust have sunk and become extinctThe night you closed your eyes for ever against me.Grey days, and wan, dree dawningsSince then, with fritter of flowers-Day wearies me with its ostentation and fawnings.Still, you left me the nights, The great dark glittery window, The bubble hemming this empty existence withlights.Still in the vast hollowLike a breath in a bubble spinningBrushing the stars, goes my soul, that skims thebounds like a swallow I can look throughThe film of the bubble night, to where you are.Through the film I can almost touch you.EASTWOODTHE stars that open and shutFall on my shallow breastLike stars on a pool.The soft wind, blowing coolLaps little crest after crestOf ripples across my breast.And dark grass under my feetSeems to dabble in meLike grass in a brook.Oh, and it is sweetTo be all these things, not to beAny more myself.For look, I am weary of myse
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