THE BRIDGE

Kisses on me like dew

        Pour, and it shall be morn

My waked spirit through.

        My bowed, greyed head adorn

With bays, that I may view

        My shadow crowned and smile even as I rnourn

Although my head is bent,

        Thy feet, sandalled with hope,

Pass and are eloquent

         I' th' way they do not stop.

Somewhere i'th' grass they are blent

        With that of me that does for meanings grope

Let us be lovers aye,

        Out of all flesh agreeing,

Lovers in some new way

        That needs not words nor seeing.

Thus abstract, our love may

        Not ours, be but a vague breath of Pure Being