Necessity for music. But not now.”
Nor could those other nine foresee the summer.
Already, in mid June, high long days
Hovered the world, and change, like ripening fruit,
Hung ever, ever plainer. Yet no man,
No god distinguished more in this green time
Than purposes that crossed; and ever tighter.
In Daniel’s house the woman who was resting—
Daily, in scorn, Berrien spoke the word—
Still did not spare the beautiful dream body