To C.H.W.

I

In Heidelberg, where you were born
The sunshine must be fine and rare
To leave such warmth within your heart
Such warmth of yellow in your hair,
To touch your thought and soul with that
Which neither suns nor stars impart,
That strange, exquisite gift of God,
That fine and fairy thing called art.
Did Fate decree your art and mine
Should weave into a future skein
When you were born in Heidelberg
And I was born in Vain?

II

In Heidelberg where you were born
The day dawn must wear strange disguise
Now, it has left its wealth of grey
And melting shadows in your eyes
From whose deep sombre beauty all
Your soul God-given speaks the clear
Unblemished strength of all your art
And writes that soul, a soul sincere,
Did Fate decree your promise hour
Meet mine of storm and stress and rain
When you were born in Heidelberg
And I was born in Vain?
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.