The Sorrows of Unicume

1

Fresh in the flush light gleam
the slape new furrows:
ride the clean horizon rib
lithe Unicume and his roan team.

Man moulded with Earth —
like clay uprisen:
his whistling mingles
with the throstle's this even.

Inward from furtive woods
the stretched light stains:
end-toil star now broods
deeming resthaven due.

Unyoked the roan team
garthward he leads:
hooves beat to harness clink;
the swollen sun bleeds.

2

When alone Unicume
seeks his darkening dale.
Yon my white garden-rail —
Heart's tomb within!

He lifts latch to the quiet room
where yet it seems she breathes:
he kneels to take her stark hands
in caress mute with the gloom.

" Draw the casement; let me see
last light without."
Ah, fierce the white white stars to hurt,
their beauty a wild shout.

Retch of flower scent, lush decay
among time-burdened shrubs.
And near and shallowly buried lay
love once enflesh'd, now fled.

3

Harsh my heart is,
scalded with grief:
my life a limp
worm-eaten leaf.

White flower unfeeling,
you star the mould:
evolved calmness,
my heart enfold.
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