- WHAT WE SAY
YOU have gathered somewhere to you
The softness of pastures cool,
And the tender, ineffable blue
Of the deep leaf-shadowed pool,
Where a lovelier sky than ours
Sinks down between wavering weeds
And the roots of the floating water-flowers
Blend with the roots of the reeds,
You have gathered to you somewhere
The passion of hyacinth-stains,
Where the odorous moss-dark air
Is moist with a thousand rains;
You have formed your virgin flesh
Of the suppliance of crescent moons,
And the tender ferns that enmesh
The shadows of summer noons.
When my days are yours there passes
With primrose-scented showers,
The thought of cool deep grasses
And beds of cuckoo-flowers;
When my nights are yours, my dreams
Are full of the flight of swallows,
Dipping their wings in rushy streams
And shady river-hollows.
