Page:Poems of Rainer Maria Rilke (1918).djvu/65

 THE BRIDE

Call me, Beloved! Call aloud to me!

Thy bride her vigil at the window keeps;

The evening wanes to dusk, the dimness creeps

Down empty alleys of the old plane-tree.

O! Let thy voice enfold me close about,

Or from this dark house, lonely and remote,

Through deep blue gardens where gray shadows float

I will pour forth my soul with hands stretched out

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