Two such as you with such a master speed,Cannot be parted nor be swept away.

In the drowsy dark cave of the mind dreams build their nest with fragments dropped from day's caravan.

Not hammer-strokes, but dance of the water, sings the pebbles into perfection.

Leave out my name from the gift if it be a burden, but keep my song.

Days are coloured bubbles that float upon the surface of fathomless nights.

My day is done, and I am like a boat drawn on the beach, listening to the dance-music of the tide in the evening.