Outside are the storms and strangers: we — Oh, close, safe, warm sleep I and she, — I and she!
What a thing friendship is - World without end.
Rejoice that man is hurled, From change to change unceasingly, His soul's wings never furled!
Inscribe all human effort with one word, artistry's haunting curse, the Incomplete!
All June I bound the rose in sheaves, Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves.
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!