Classic Poem

I have baptized thee Withy, because of thy slender limbs,
And since thou art the rod for God to chastise me withal,
Yea, and because a yearning in thy posture overbrims
Even as in April days sways in the willows tall.

I know thee not—but in the tempest shock,
Some day, I shall hear thee at my door,
And I shall straightway open to thy knock,
Upon thy tameless breasts my tameless breast to lock
To beat with equal beat for evermore.

For I know thee—the eyes like buds are glowing,
And thou wouldst flower, flower, flower!
And thy young ideas scatter like the shower
From shrubs with cataracts bespattered;
And thou wert fain as I do to defy God's tempests blowing
Or—be shattered!