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Blue Squills

How many million Aprils came
 ； Before I ever knew
How white a cherry bough could be,
 ； A bed of squills, how blue!

And many a dancing April
 ； When life is done with me,
Will lift the blue flame of the flower
 ； And the white flame of the tree.

Oh burn me with your beauty, then,
 ； Oh hurt me, tree and flower,
Lest in the end death try to take
 ； Even this glistening hour.

O shaken flowers, O shimmering trees,
 ； O sunlit white and blue,
Wound me, that I, through endless sleep,
 ； May bear the scar of you.

Stars

Alone in the night
 ； On a dark hill
With pines around me
 ； Spicy and still,

And a heaven full of stars
 ； Over my head,
White and topaz
 ； And misty red；

Myriads with beating
 ； Hearts of fire
That aeons
 ； Cannot vex or tire；

Up the dome of heaven
 ； Like a great hill,
I wa

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