There is a place
In evergreen wiles
A permanent perfect
of boundless dimension,
I tarry untrying in idles of hours
Lost in the halls of this subtle domain
Walk with me there
To where willows thirst
On the banks by the bridge
Where cowslip with meadowsweet
Polka the pasture to pepper
The evening with notes of the rain
Gather me in-
-There,hold me in harvests
Of memory loved,- as when
You turned your face
To the lights on the water
and smiled the glory of day into shame.