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, Beloved, the Casurinas quiver, Each tassel prays the wind to set it free, Hark to the frantic sobbing of the river, Wild to attain extinction in the sea. All Nature blindly struggles to dissolve In other forms and forces, thus to solve The painful riddle of identity. Ah, that my soul might lose itself in thee!

Yet, my Beloved One, wherefore seek I union, Since there is no such thing in all the world,— Are not our spirits linked in close communion,— And on my lips thy clinging lips are curled? Thy tender arms are round my shoulders thrown, I hear thy heart more loudly than my own, And yet, to my despair, I know thee far, As in the stellar darkness, star from star.

Even in times when love with bounteous measure A simultaneous joy on us has shed, In the last moment of delirious pleasure, Ere the sense fail, or any force be fled, My rapture has been even as a wall, Shutting out any thought of thee at all! 83