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Poem	I wonder, can the night go by; Can this shot arrow of travel fly Shaft-golden with light, sheer into the sky Of a dawned to-morrow, Without ever sleep delivering us From each other, or loosing the dolorous Unfruitful sorrow! What is it then that you can see That at the window endlessly You watch the red sparks whirl and flee And the night look through? Your presence peering lonelily there Oppresses me so, I can hardly bear To share the train with you. You hurt my heart-beats’ privacy; I wish I could put you away from me; I suffocate in this intimacy, For all that I love you; How I have longed for this night in the train, Yet now every fibre of me cries in pain To God to remove you. But surely my soul’s best dream is still That one night pouring down shall swill Us away in an utter sleep, until We are one, smooth-rounded. Yet closely bitten in to me Is this armour of stiff reluctancy That keeps me impounded. So, dear love, when another night Pours on us, lift your fingers white And strip me naked, touch me light, Light, light all over. For I ache most earnestly for your touch, Yet I cannot move, however much I would be your lover. Night after night with a blemish of day Unblown and unblossomed has withered away; Come another night, come a new night, say Will you pluck me apart? Will you open the amorous, aching bud Of my body, and loose the burning flood That would leap to you from my heart?
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