Afternoon

<SPAN name="XXIII"></SPAN>XXIII<br/> <br/> <br/> Your gift of self is ever prodigal;<br/> The flight that wings you higher is above,<br/> Above cessation and all weariness,<br/> Reaching toward the heaven of fullest love.<br/> <br/> A clasp of hands, a glance enfevers you;<br/> Your heart appears so beautiful and such<br/> That I do fear your eyes, your lips, and that<br/> I am unworthy and you love too much.<br/> <br/> Alas! the fire and tenderness too high<br/> For beings who have only one poor heart,<br/> Wet with regrets and thorny with its faults,<br/> To find but tears to weep with when they part.<br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />