We stand in that wide place
Where love is frozen in marble, spire on spire,
A snow-white nightingale with a heart of fire
Soaring in space.
We gaze, together, into the shining pool
To catch the soul of beauty unaware
Finding only the peaceful body there
Of beauty drowned and still in waters cool.

Burning so luminously in these pure white things
Somehow akin, are palpitating fires,

Intangible, yet visible as spires
Or wings.
And close at hand, an unseen Moslem sings
Blind, haunting chants, which speak
Of mystery, forevermore unguessed.
O shining ones, I seek
No farther, for my soul, content,
Divines the secret of the Taj Mahal and you--
Beauty and desire, possessed
In white tranquillity, in flaming peace,
Find rest.

The Gift

What is this wine you have poured for me?
You have offered up
Your face in its pure transparency
Like a crystal cup