HEALING

Other hands I loved once

Proudly tenso and white,

But those hungry fingers

Would tear my heart tonight.

On all its empty aching

Palls your still touch

-

You who, understanding, never Ask too much

SONNET OUT OF SERENITY

True, you have had no verse of me, my dear; And since my versos are of love, so you, Lacking them, seem unloved. It is not true. You have but freed me from old pain and fear Verse being wrung from me in hard distress, A fover of tho blood that will not cool, Black self-abasement for a weakling fool. Aching that knows no ease, and bitterness. Oh, I have wakod at dawn and wished for death Then verse was on me. But, beloved, you Have brought me life lovelier than I know Life was a space of laughter and quiet breath; Strength you have given mo and joy and rest, Light on my forehead, peace against my breast.

VIGNETTE FROM A CAMPUS WINDOW

Slenderly upright, crisp, austere,

With casual gait across the green As Haydn's music proud and clear, Slenderly upright, orisp, austero Have you no nood of others noar

Who walk so grave, aloof, sorono, Slenderly upright, crisp, austere,

With casual gait across the groon?

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