To whom I owe the. leaping delight
That quickens my senses in our waking
And the rhythm of our sleeping and
Our breathing as one
lovers whose bodies smell of each other
Who think the same thoughts
without the need of speech,
And babble the same speech
without need of meaning…
No peevish winter wind shall chill
No sullen tropic sun shall wither
The roses in the rose-garden
which is ours
and ours only
But this is for others to read:
These are private words
addressed to you in public.
No peevish winter wind shall chill
No sullen tropic sun shall wither
The roses in the rose-garden
which is ours
and ours only
But this is for others to read:
These are private words
addressed to you in public.