Font Color='#880000'The Skies That Sing To Me/Font
The orbits of the spheres have wound to see
The rolling tides, where Spring has swelled the moon;
The skies that close themselves still sing to me,
But I have heard their song some years too soon.
And though we were not meant to be as one,
Resounding through, my dreams sing mute despair,
To die before this shame leaves me undone:
These raucous paeans of love that never bare.
But set within thy form, a kinder love,
Of notes inlaid, a glowing muse to be,
From song that plays of music softer sung,
So skies might gentler blow what breath leaves thee.
What comes though born of life less half my whole,
From mine through thine, thy flesh wields all my soul.