O day! Having felt, like the touch of water upon the head, The desire to be alone and to weep where none could find me, Laughing I walked where the fragrance of the riotous garden spread Its honeyed share, and left the flowers and the trees behind me. And from behind me, borne from the breathing depths, as I went, With eyes half-closed, there came to fall upon my hair The holy benediction of things most excellent, And seeds and shreds of down were softly mingled there.…
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