Oh, rather than die by my enemy's hand in the night,
I would die by the hand of my lover-God at play in a splendour of light!
NEVER-KNOWN
O Never-Known, it may be Never-to-Know,
You are the murmur of colour in the East
When upon twilit clouds faint ghosts of sunset
Sigh from the Western rose-gardens.
Or the thin rippled tune