Lay your sleeping head, my love, Human on my faithless arm; Time and fevers burn away Individual beauty from Thoughtful children, and the grave Proves the child ephemeral: But in my arms till break of day Let the living creature lie, Mortal, guilty, but to me The entirely beautiful.
Soul and body have no bounds: To lovers as they lie upon Her tolerant enchanted slope In their ordinary swoon, Grave the vision Venus sends Of supernatural sympathy, Universal love and hope; While an abstract insight wakes Among the glaciers and the rocks The hermit's sensual ecstasy.
Certainty, fidelity On the stroke of midnight pass Like vibrations of a bell, And fashionable madmen raise Their pedantic boring cry: Every farthing of the cost, All the dreadful cards foretell, Shall be paid, but not from this night Not a whisper, not a thought, Not a kiss nor look be lost.
Beauty, midnight, vision dies: Let the winds of dawn that blow Softly round your dreaming head Such a day of sweetness show Eye and knocking heart may bless. Find the mortal world enough; Noons of dryness see you fed By the involuntary powers, Nights of insult let you pass Watched by every human love.
*i was thinking about this particular poem as spring rain, cold and teary keeps coming down in the gentle yet still barren field of high peak. my eyes are red and my mind is worn. and i know spring is just around the corner. i know. the lower the sky is now, in fog and mist, it will get higher and higher, endless blue magic. with the new baa lambs, in pairs, barely able to walk really, hopping around in that awkward beautiful manner of all things young, pure and hopeful. no spring is ever the same. similar yet always new. with a hidden wishes and perhaps even more unspoken things- myriads of things, perhaps not even well-known to myself yet, i will let the souls and bodies have no boundaries. let no tears of today outweigh the feathers of wings of tomorrow. even in sadness. just slight one.
my gene pool (male) wonders if anyone reads this stuff. i have no idea. does it get read?
*disclaimer: i do sound like some big-inflated bobblehead full of hot-airs at this point when i read my own purging. ah.. hopefully theres at least a hope for a bit of schadenfreuden by watching this monkey make a fool out of self. in public, voluntarily. ha ha. gah...
i rant. on regular basis. it's something to behold, as it may as well become my favorite pastime and amusement, simultaneously. efficient. pointless. may be good?