When flower piles on flower

When flower piles on flower, and bower
Bursts its bounty with too much love of glory
Sending the heaven-ascending flowers
Down to ground to end their sun-fed story,

Then we see how sullen sudden surfeit shows
That, finding no resistance to its moltless growth,
Will, in writhing upward, fallow fall--slow
To the earth, making shadows of its own.

Even so, unlooked-for hope can tangle
As it goes, a kite beyond its string's
Self-tightening, trailing bows of woeful
Love, enveloped in nothing's everything.

Unreaped ease on ease propels our lot aloft,
Perspectiveless, if we cannot count the cost.