WHY do I call thee? Hear the Darkness calling All the wild gold plumage of the sky,— Flickering and flaming, softly, softly falling To the Western dove-cote, dusk and shy. With a voice of viols, hear the Darkness calling! So my soul is yearning, tyrannous and tender; Hear the Darkness calling, O thou poignant splendour!— It is I. Why do I love thee?—Hearken Death desiring All the yellow roses, loth to die, All the lovely lovers and their loves untiring, All the days of lapis-lazuli, All the chiming rondels.—Hearken Death desiring So in silver samite like a bride to fold thee, So to hush thee, hide thee, so to have and hold thee.— It is I. |