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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=373744" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Caroline Branson</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">With our hearts like drifting suns, had we but walked,<br>As often before, the April fields till star-light<br>Silkened over with viewless gauze the darkness<br>Under the cliff, our trysting place in the wood,<br>Where the brook turns! Had we but passed from wooing<br>Like notes of music that run together, into winning,<br>In the inspired improvisation of love!<br>But to put back of us as a canticle ended<br>The rapt enchantment of the flesh,<br>In which our souls swooned, down, down,<br>Where time was not, nor space, nor ourselves --<br>Annihilated in love!<br>To leave these behind for a room with lamps:<br>And to stand with our Secret mocking itself,<br>And hiding itself amid flowers and mandolins,<br>Stared at by all between salad and coffee.<br>And to see him tremble, and feel myself<br>Prescient, as one who signs a bond --<br>Not flaming with gifts and pledges heaped<br>With rosy hands over his brow.<br>And then, O night! deliberate! unlovely!<br>With all of our wooing blotted out by the winning,<br>In a chosen room in an hour that was known to all!<br>Next day he sat so listless, almost cold,<br>So strangely changed, wondering why I wept,<br>Till a kind of sick despair and voluptuous madness<br>Seized us to make the pact of death.<br>A stalk of the earth-sphere,<br>Frail as star-light;<br>Waiting to be drawn once again<br>Into creation's stream.<br>But next time to be given birth<br>Gazed at by Raphael and St. Francis<br>Sometimes as they pass.<br>For I am their little brother,<br>To be known clearly face to face<br>Through a cycle of birth hereafter run.<br>You may know the seed and the soil;<br>You may feel the cold rain fall,<br>But only the earth-sphere, only heaven<br>Knows the secret of the seed<br>In the nuptial chamber under the soil.<br>Throw me into the stream again,<br>Give me another trial --<br>Save me, Shelley!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edgar+Lee+Masters">Edgar Lee Masters</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=373744" data-title="Caroline Branson de Edgar Lee Masters" data-description="With our hearts like drifting suns, had we but walked,
As often before, the April fields till star-light
Silkened over with viewless gauze the darkness
Under the cliff, our trysting place in the wood,
Where the brook turns! Had we but passed from ..."></div>
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