Mystic spring of vapor:
Opiate odor of colors:
Alas—I’m not all of me!
Wanton fragrances, dewy, dim,
Curl out from my drowsy soul;
Wrapping mists about its breast.
I dwell alone,
Like one-eyed star,
In frightened, darksome, willow threads.
In world of moan,
My soul is stagnant dawn—
Dawn; alas, dawn my soul is!
Ah, dawn—close fringed curtain
Of night is stealing up:—God—
Demon—Light—
Darkness—oh!
Desert of No More I want;—
World of silence, bodiless sadness tenanted;
Stillness.