In a host of unbarred waterways The man bearing scrolls; These are faces I've seen written into sympathy - Kingly ships in ecstacy that fill'd their sails with delight.
I printed out the fountainhead received to me in Languid Keys: A knowledge subtle drawn with sunlight faring well the matchless Seas!
And up through the ductwork feels the bloody door, Mine if I remain, but horror; Remain, yes, where body binds the body, And awake is a lonely room away.
Maybe a soundless rapture that dissolves the form.
And pulsars deep in mourning (The Portrait Of the Music To the Poet).