This hateful imperfection of her eyes
They swell lke orient pearls
You dont speak as You think
Your vows to her and me !
How shall we find the concord
And I go, oh spite, oh hell,
to vows that would consist
Give me Your hands if we be friends
Oh peace will not harbour me
since night's swift dragons
Night and silence, are You there ?
Weeds of chillness he does wear
To heaven's breaking fields I come