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Put up my lute!
What of — my Music!
Since the sole ear I cared to charm –
Passive — as Granite — laps My Music –
Sobbing — will suit — as well as psalm!
Would but the “Memnon” of the Desert –
Teach me the strain
That vanquished Him –
When He — surrendered to the Sunrise –
Maybe — that — would awaken — them!
Put up my lute!
What of — my Music!
Since the sole ear I cared to charm –
Passive — as Granite — laps My Music –
Sobbing — will suit — as well as psalm!
Would but the “Memnon” of the Desert –
Teach me the strain
That vanquished Him –
When He — surrendered to the Sunrise –
Maybe — that — would awaken — them!
For this — accepted Breath –
Through it — compete with Death –
The fellow cannot touch this Crown –
By it — my title take –
Ah, what a royal sake
To my necessity — stooped down!
No Wilderness — can be
Where this attendeth me –
No Desert Noon –
No fear of frost to come
Haunt the perennial bloom –
But Certain June!
Get Gabriel — to tell — the royal syllable –
Get Saints — with new — unsteady tongue –
To say what trance below
Most like their glory show –
Fittest the Crown!
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Her — “last Poems” –
Poets — ended –
Silver — perished — with her Tongue –
Not on Record — bubbled other,
Flute — or Woman –
So divine –
Not unto its Summer — Morning
Robin — uttered Half the Tune –
Gushed too free for the Adoring –
From the Anglo-Florentine –
Late — the Praise –
‘Tis dull — conferring
On the Head too High to Crown –
Diadem — or Ducal Showing –
Be its Grave — sufficient sign –
Nought — that We — No Poet’s Kinsman –
Suffocate — with easy woe –
What, and if, Ourself a Bridegroom –
Put Her down — in Italy?
