Chapter XVI

I bathe in thy two eyes my soul entire,
As tho' in purest water it were laid,
And in their sanctities I quench its fire
That tempered and more keen it may be made.
Oh, to join in utter purity,
As two stain'd windows, smitten by the sun,
Mingle their lights in separate clarity
And melt to one!

I am sometimes impatient of my lot
As being one who has not and can not
Attain the perfectness he would espouse;
My heart beats on the bars that are its vows--
My heart whose evil blossoms push their way
Between the rocks of blind brutality
And flaunt shamefacedly
Their swarthy flow'rs in sinister array.
My heart so false--so true--as change the years,
My heart of very contradiction made--
Exaggerating heart where merge and shade
Immensities of joy and startl'd fears.