May is much sunshine through small leaves.
To-night when the full-bellied moon swallows the stars. Grant that I know.
A man must be sacrificed now and again to provide for the next generation of men.
I am tired, Beloved, of chafing my heart against the want of you; of squeezing it into little inkdrops, And posting it.
Even pain pricks to livelier living.
Underneath my stiffened gown Is the softness of a woman bathing in a marble basin, A basin in the midst of hedges grown So thick, she cannot see her lover hiding, But she guesses he is near, And the sliding of the water Seems the stroking of a dear Hand upon her.