Page:The city of dreadful night - and other poems (IA cityofdreadfulni00thomrich).pdf/145



precious thing are you making fast In all these silken lines? And where and to whom will it go at last? Such subtle knots and twines!

I am tying up all my love in this, With all its hopes and fears, With all its anguish and all its bliss, And its hours as heavy as years.

I am going to send it afar, afar, To I know not where above; To that sphere beyond the highest star Where dwells the soul of my Love.