Oct 302013
 
Bid despair go haunt another breast
And cut his shadows from paper hearts,
For I have heard the great Love calling
With sounds of the shore-pebbles rolling
When the long wave retreats from the shore:
Unsatiated lovers ever, ever crying 'More.'  

And I have lain my head where his head had lain
And felt the quick brightness of the world recede--
And heard naught but the pebbles' plaint,
And his high-wrought heart for all the sea.

All those who have heard great Love's call
Know wet desire survives the fire, its deep well
Is ever-fresh, a portion of the imageless All
Whose depths are rolling in the bluest eye
Forever, though a war-club block the sky.

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