I am, and therefore these,
Existence is by me,—
Flux of pendulous seas,
The stable, free.

I am in blush of the rose,
The shimmer of dawn;
Am girdle Orion knows,
The fount undrawn.

I am earth's potency,
The chemic ray's, the rain's,
The reciprocity
That loads the wains.

I am, or the heavens fall!
I dwell in my woven tent,
Am immanent in all,—
Suprámanent!

I am the Life in life,
Impact and verve of thought,
The reason's lens and knife,
The ethic “ought.”

I am of being the stress,

For love of lovely words, and for the sake
Of those, my kinsmen and my countrymen,
Who early and late in the windy ocean toiled
To plant a star for seamen, where was then
The surfy haunt of seals and cormorants:
I, on the lintel of this cot, inscribe
The name of a strong tower.

Knowing beauty my misfortune,
I face my mirror with a sigh.
To please a fastidious emperor,
How shall I array myself?…
Birds flock and sing when the wind is warm,
Flower-shadows climb when the sun is high—
And year after year girls in the south
Are picking hibiscus, dreaming of love!

To-morrow shall be my dancing day:
I would my true love did so chance
To see the legend of my play,
To call my true love to my dance:

Sing O my love, O my love, my love, my love;
This have I done for my true love.

Then was I born of a virgin pure,
Of her I took fleshly substance;
Thus was I knit to man's nature,
To call my true love to my dance:

In a manger laid and wrapped I was,
So very poor, this was my chance,
Betwixt an ox and a silly poor ass,
To call my true love to my dance:

Then afterwards baptized I was;

The red rose hath its splendour,—
The lily its white gleam,
And tender
It floats above the stream.

The sea hath sun to lighten,—
The lover hath his maid
To heighten
Love-pleasure long-delayed.

The green leaves interlacing
Have the wind's subtle breath
Embracing:—
The poet hath but death.

Live Jesus, Live, and let it bee
My life to dye, for love of thee.

A thousand housetops under the dome
And every house is one man's home,
With love and quarrel and truth and sin.
I should find if I walked therein
Under the eaves of every house
Secrets, laughter and sullen brows,
And bitter battles and comrades kind
And the love of a woman I should find
[Every anger] and hope there comes,
In any home of a thousand homes.

And strangest yet, find them in the press
Who say that the world is emptiness.

Love, you have broken my wings—I cried—
And oh, the sky!
Never, never to lift me high!

Only the broken-winged can fly.
Look!—Love replied.

Love, you have shattered the songs of me
And oh, the pain!
Never, never to sing again!

Singing lives on when song is dead.
Listen!—Love said.

There is a sky for a broken wing,
That I have found;
And in the stillness after song,
There is a Sound!

When weight of all the garnered years
—Bows me, and praise must find relief
In harvest-song, and smiles and tears
—Twist in the band that binds my sheaf;

Thou known Unknown, dark, radiant sea
—In whom we live, in whom we move,
My spirit must lose itself in Thee,
—Crying a name—Life, Light, or Love.

When you kiss me I am blind,
My senses
Are filled with ecstasy.
I only feel how strong my life is,
And so know myself.
From love I understand all things that live,
And even the dead.

I am like a tree
Shaken in wind.
Or like water that is drawn into the air
Through the strong loving of the sun.

When you are gone,
I am myself earthquake and eclipse,
And all cold darkness, and rending grief.
When you kiss me I am blind.