On high and in whole looms a glimmering globe
On a mountain of cloud, on her wintery throne
Diana every man has known

From there she casts her ashen glory
Upon my buildings highest storey
From there and paired with stars in tow
She maps the routes and lights the roads

Beyond black trees all sharp and blown
Through feral fields for miles untold
How she bridges their breadth without effort or labor
How I envy pallid plains set all alight beneath her favor

From where I'd watched the roses blown
Their bodies bent and brightly doused
Their forms aroused in wiry crowds

Petals pink upon a breeze
are thrown about the golden eve
Such a fabulous flock, how I envy their flight!
How I covet their course, sailing into the night

As like when they were children
now they curtsy at the cross
Then all once they take their seats
and turn their gaze upon

The august priest in silken robes,
ornately trimmed and white
And urging them to prayer between the
readings and the rites

The man of god, his hands aloft
move practiced through the air
His winsome words bring ease upon
the crosses which they bear

His mirthful moans and dulcet tones
resounding through the chamber
By candlelight I then decide
To stay for the remainder

When ills and ails have ceased and summered
I'll wander widely, unencumbered
In my body through those golden streets
And gold the higher half of trees

How often I dream of that sudden restoring
Of boldly exploring places farther afoot
Those redolent roads where I'd carried my love,
where our words had been said
Where some later day I will wander far again

Terrible and tall are the trunks in their ranks,
and reeling en masse
Like a timber-toothed maw guarding secrets

Where in that darkness do the rushing leaves go?
At my feet and in song!
With each bluster they usher the bedlam along

For what do they long?
For what within that writhing wood might turn them so headlong?

In little leaps and sudden swerves, they trace the winds across the turf
Such a dance on the Earth!
Such a rapturous throng!
Towards that crooked forest where my heart is darkly drawn

The frost-feathered birches are a heavenly white,
knuckled and rigid as elderly spines,
Holy as naves and as filled with esteem
November announces my season of dreams

Long nights south to the tree and the lake
For happiness sake, and lying with stars
The comforting sounds of a million cars
Rubber on tar, rubber on tar

Flights of romance and my supper outside
A tangle of shadows fiercely flailing at my sides,
and over tables of oak
I am sat near silent others in their scarves and winter coats

They accompany me so, although none by invite
We are strangers breaking bread beneath a milky way of lights

Here where lofty leagues above, the storm begins to croon
Where fleecy clouds in motion seem to overtake the moon

Here in the dusk while the light falls away,
comes the night in it's wake
I am wrapped in the nothings of a wintery gale

At my neck and my ear rush it's wintery song
I am coldly embraced, although never for long

Here where the roads harbour hardly a soul
Where the bramble and the briars are frozen and blown
Here where the rains move in curtains of silk-
curtains of light, beating and beating at the edges of night

Here where the pines in their thrashing and throes
In their fits and their starts and their sea-sounding odes..
..they are after my heart, they are leaning and thrown
beneath arctic white stars