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Nay, I have lived before, and otherwhere Have lolled against the breast of God's Unseen, And watched Infinities of Things careen With shouted laughter down the startled air, And caught the Truth by his entangled hair, And plucked at Beauty's burnished wing to preen A broken feather from its golden sheen, And smiled with Love, slow walking, white in vair.

How else—when you come running to surprise My heart with sudden arms about my throat, And laugh with such a wishful little note— How else am I, Love's acolyte, so wise To know that dreams and passion turned devote, And joy grown sad, are Love with wide girl's eyes?