when citied day with the sonorous homes
of light swiftly sink in the sorrowful hour,
they counted petals O tremendous flower
on whose huge heart prospecting darkness roams

torture my spirit with the exquisite froms
and whithers of existence,
as by shores
soundless,the unspeaking watcher who adores

perceived sails whose might brightness dumbs

the utterance of his soul—so even i
wholly chained to a grave astonishment
feel in my being the delirious smart

of thrilled ecstasy,where sea and sky

to know the white ship of thy heart

on frailer ports of costlier commerce bent