EPITAPH
How fair a bride-groom Death must be.
He took her in his arms,
Her answering kiss now Spring is here
The valley leafage warms.
ALIAS
Between the dawn and the first breath
Of dusk there slips away
Something that partly is like death
And partly is like day.
IN ARVIA’S ROOM
For Her Cradle
I cannot tell you what you ask.
But of my life to be
You who are wise and know your speech,
Tell me.
For Her Mirror
Look in the deep of me:
What are we going to do?
If I am I, as I am,
Who in the world are you?
For a Comb of Ivory