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The Mountains—grow unnoticed—
Their Purple figures rise
Without attempt—Exhaustion—
Assistance—or Applause—

In Their Eternal Faces
The Sun—with just delight
Looks long—and last—and golden—
For fellowship—at night—

Sweetly scented or prettily pigmented,
I don't mind.
But let it burn bright.

Perfectly perfumed or beautifully bland,
I don't mind.
But let the flames flicker.

Big, bold, tall, thin,
I don't mind.
A candle's a candle.

Inside or out,
I don't mind.
Let it shine like my love.

It can hurt, it can wound,
I don't mind.
I'd go through hell for you.