43 - 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