But now, you are twain, you are cloven apart Flesh of his flesh, but heart of my heart.

Forget that I remember And dream that I forget.

A baby's feet, like sea-shells pink Might tempt, should heaven see meet, An angel's lips to kiss, we think, A baby's feet.

Though one were fair as roses His beauty clouds and closes.

I am tired of tears and laughter, And men that laugh and weep Of what may come hereafter For men that sow to reap: I am weary of days and hours, Blown buds of barren flowers, Desires and dreams and powers And everything but sleep.

Before the beginning of years There came to the making of man Time with a gift of tears, Grief with a glass that ran .

Ask nothing more of me sweet; All I can give you I give; Heart of my heart were it more, More would be laid at your feet.