Beneath circling shadows I sought to sleep in peace. Knot the cord, and fly away fast! If I do slumber, wake me from that eternal sleep, O gentle one, for on this day those stern ungentle hands have laid my body bare, lopp'd and hew'd and chewed and gnawed. Beneath circling shadows I sought to sleep in peace. Again so great a bubbling fountain stirr'd with wind's rise and fall between honey tree and locust, only to encounter a cloud of issuing sprouts blushing. Shall I speak? Say I am burnt to cinders? My pretty fingers on lily-white hands tremble like aspen leaves. I hear you play upon your lute, it's silken strings delight me to kiss your honey sweet lips which touched for life's heavenly sweet tongue into harmony in thy poet's heart. Come, let us go! One hour's storm of tears draw back sparkling bright beads of fragrant meads: Upon thy tongue doth melt away all pain and sorrow of yesterday.

Let us go but for one hour's chance to that sweet hut where perchance fragrant meads might make a tear to draw back curtains from glass so clear it seems to us it is not there from moment to moment,
Being Here.