if when hours decline I lend
to some other import of my need,
beg white mercies from on high to bring
thoughts of thee and to my fate ill go
with one wish as this to thee
then walk without wisdom worlds below.
were I tuttored not by this dark hand
though hand the same as I if self owned were
beg the unlit reaches understand
knowing any entry enters thus
as offered omens own no trust
to be as sweet and carefull as I were.
great emnity may own at least as I
find no greater than this doubt secured
a proffered warmth where fire once was with words
though nothing moved but my dead heart and eye
to see no right in leaving this strange place
where beauty mires and worn dark wears a face
but knowing is no truth, fragile I must
uncouple from the course of this dark life
to live and own no lust, but this of her
where ever empty moving wishes were
extend the wound no shadow fills
and mark the pages in her sight
as feathers lifted in a softer light.
come to me for what I can’t pretend
illucidates a kind of trust
I will light a well within my hand
narrowed now in this not distant light
where wings will stay beating in the end.
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