Page:Eclogues; a book of poems.djvu/40

The Sorrow of Unicume He lifts latch to the quiet room

where yet it seems she breathes:

he kneels to take her stark hands

in caress mute with the gloom.

"Draw the casement; let me see 

last light without."

Ah, fierce the white, white stars to hurt,

their beauty a wild shout.

Retch of flower scent, lush decay

among time-burdened shrubs.

And near and shallowly buried lay

love once enfleshed, now fled.

III

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