The lights of the skies kissed and kissed her till she woke.

Flowers of hurrying summers sighed in her breath and voices of
winds and water sang in her movements.

The passion of the tide of colours in clouds and in forests
flowed into her life, and the music of all things caressed her
limbs into shape.

She is my bride,--she has lighted her lamp in my house.



LXXIII

The spring with its leaves and flowers has come into my body.

The bees hum there the morning long, and the winds idly play with
the shadows.

A sweet fountain springs up from the heart of my heart.

My eyes are washed with delight like the dew-bathed morning, and
life is quivering in all my limbs like the sounding strings of
the lute.

Are you wandering alone by the shore of my life, where the tide
is in flood, O lover of my endless days?

Are my dreams flitting round you like the moths with their