That brood like a cloud over the lands of men. Movement, passion of colour and pure wings, Curving to cut like knives--these are the things I search for:--passion beyond the ken
Of our foiled violences, and, more swift Than any blow which man aims against time, The invulnerable, motion that shall rift All dimness with the lightning of a rhyme,
Or note, or colour. And the body shall be Quick as the mind; and will shall find release From bondage to brute things; and joyously Soul, will and body, in the strength of triune peace,
Shall live the perfect grace of power unwasted. And love consummate, marvellously blending Passion and reverence in a single spring Of quickening force, till now never yet tasted,
But ever ceaselessly thirsted for, shall crown The new life with its ageless starry fire. I go to seek that reef, far down, far down Below the edge of everyday's desire,
Beyond the magical islands, where of old I was content, dreaming, to give the lie To misery. They were all strong and bold That thither came; and shall I dare to try?
Oh wind-swept towers, Oh endlessly blossoming trees, White clouds and lucid eyes, And pools in the rocks whose unplumbed blue is pregnant With who knows what of subtlety And magical curves and limbs-- White Anadyomene and her shallow breasts Mother-of-pearled with light.
And oh the April, April of straight soft hair, Falling smooth as the mountain water and brown; The April of little leaves unblinded, Of rosy nipples and innocence And the blue languor of weary eyelids.
Across a huge gulf I fling my voice And my desires together: Across a huge gulf ... on the other bank Crouches April with her hair as smooth and straight and brown As falling waters. Oh brave curve upwards and outwards. Oh despair of the downward tilting-- Despair still beautiful As a great star one has watched all night Wheeling down under the hills. Silence widens and darkens; Voice and desires have dropped out of sight. I am all alone, dreaming she would come and kiss me.
Day after day, At spring's return, I watch my flowers, how they burn Their lives away.
The candle crocus And daffodil gold Drink fire of the sunshine-- Quickly cold.
And the proud tulip-- How red he glows!-- Is quenched ere summer Can kindle the rose.