Page:Poems of Rainer Maria Rilke (1918).djvu/85

 EARLY APOLLO

As when at times there breaks through branches bare

A morning vibrant with the breath of spring,

About this poet-head a splendour rare

Transforms it almost to a mortal thing.

There is as yet no shadow in his glance,

To [sic] cool his temples for the laurel's glow;

But later o'er those marble brows, perchance,

A rose-garden with bushes tall will grow,

And single petals one by one will fall

O'er the still mouth and break its silent thrall,

—The mouth that trembles with a dawning smile

As though a song were rising there the while.

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