Rue Des Vents - Part 8
Your body's beauty is an air that blows
Out of some garden where the Spring has come —
Where never yet has faded any rose
And never any singing bird is dumb.
You are white waterfalls in piney woods
Touched by the freshness of October wind.
You are the slim young silver moon that broods
Over a dusk where lovers wander blind.
And how shall these eyes ever have their fill
Of you, alight with loveliness and love —
My starlight water, tremulous or still,
Across which music wakens as you move!
Over the floor laughing and white you pass. . . .
I see all April light that ever was.
Out of some garden where the Spring has come —
Where never yet has faded any rose
And never any singing bird is dumb.
You are white waterfalls in piney woods
Touched by the freshness of October wind.
You are the slim young silver moon that broods
Over a dusk where lovers wander blind.
And how shall these eyes ever have their fill
Of you, alight with loveliness and love —
My starlight water, tremulous or still,
Across which music wakens as you move!
Over the floor laughing and white you pass. . . .
I see all April light that ever was.
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