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Agenbite of Inwit, issue 5, Summer 1944
Page 7
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Agenbite of Inwit -- Summer, 1944 -- Page 7 *************************************************************************** Shall we not dance, leafwise, with these October winds That limn the contours of your face against the air And fill your hair with wanton ringlets? Shall I not Drink wine of autumn on your lips, and taste the sins Of many brazen summers lingering softly there, The gay, delicious sins of summer moons forgot? *************************************************************************** YESTERDAY The little love that fell upon us with the snow, Have torrid summers passions melted it away To swell with those silent streams that sadly flow Into a long-forgotten sea of yesterday? The little love that fell upon us with the snow. The soft pad of our footsteps on the whitened street, Its quiet, gleaming plain behind us, desecrate With all those tiny, careless, tokens indiscreet Of joyous, wanton prints: what tales they could relate. The soft pad of our footsteps on the whitened street. The miracle of snow upon your golden hair, Your eager, happy oves that glistened in the snow, Your hands in mine, your soft warm lips pressed on mine: where Does all the splendor of such magic moments go? The miracle of snow upon your golden hair. The night around us, filled with cosmic melody, The snow-enchanted trees, desirous of our praise, That whispered low and posed in shy coquettery As lustful winds disclosed their shoulders to our gaze, And night around us filled with cosmic melody. Say you have not forgotten this, my Nicolette, That somewhere in your heart this night eternally Renews itself; that though all worlds may crumble, yet In yesterday you still roam snowlit streets with me. Say you have not forgotten this, my Nicolette. *************************************************************************** ALLEGORY They fell, the golden towers; The pylons crumbled and fell and were consumed; And red were the skies, and redder the streets and the thirsty earth. There was no time for tears. We surged forth and forward with that we had and what we could fashion And forgot not to sing, to laugh, or to clap hands. The golden towers were gone but we care not For our dreams were brighter than the towers and stronger than the pylons that crumbled. Against that day we stood, and the night that followed; We were alone but not afraid.
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Agenbite of Inwit -- Summer, 1944 -- Page 7 *************************************************************************** Shall we not dance, leafwise, with these October winds That limn the contours of your face against the air And fill your hair with wanton ringlets? Shall I not Drink wine of autumn on your lips, and taste the sins Of many brazen summers lingering softly there, The gay, delicious sins of summer moons forgot? *************************************************************************** YESTERDAY The little love that fell upon us with the snow, Have torrid summers passions melted it away To swell with those silent streams that sadly flow Into a long-forgotten sea of yesterday? The little love that fell upon us with the snow. The soft pad of our footsteps on the whitened street, Its quiet, gleaming plain behind us, desecrate With all those tiny, careless, tokens indiscreet Of joyous, wanton prints: what tales they could relate. The soft pad of our footsteps on the whitened street. The miracle of snow upon your golden hair, Your eager, happy oves that glistened in the snow, Your hands in mine, your soft warm lips pressed on mine: where Does all the splendor of such magic moments go? The miracle of snow upon your golden hair. The night around us, filled with cosmic melody, The snow-enchanted trees, desirous of our praise, That whispered low and posed in shy coquettery As lustful winds disclosed their shoulders to our gaze, And night around us filled with cosmic melody. Say you have not forgotten this, my Nicolette, That somewhere in your heart this night eternally Renews itself; that though all worlds may crumble, yet In yesterday you still roam snowlit streets with me. Say you have not forgotten this, my Nicolette. *************************************************************************** ALLEGORY They fell, the golden towers; The pylons crumbled and fell and were consumed; And red were the skies, and redder the streets and the thirsty earth. There was no time for tears. We surged forth and forward with that we had and what we could fashion And forgot not to sing, to laugh, or to clap hands. The golden towers were gone but we care not For our dreams were brighter than the towers and stronger than the pylons that crumbled. Against that day we stood, and the night that followed; We were alone but not afraid.
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