Hymn
To Robin

My beloved is like a roe or a young hart; behold, he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills.

I would weave your flaxen hair into skeins of gold.

I would sink into the deeps of your eyes,
And lose my soul to the kisses of your mouth.

I would traverse your white-gold skin, so warm, so soft;
I would ascend your honeydown legs.
I would follow your proud boyhood to its source
And discover your most hidden places.

I would explore the ranges of your body and touch your mind;
I would tread the trackless plains of your soul,
And hear your trembling silences.
I would glimpse your pure being:
A life in immanence.

But
"Thou shalt not"
And I shall not
Cannot
Would not,
O flame-fragile beauty, touchless of man.

And yet, and yet...
I am drowning in your soul,
I am dissolving in your being,
Lost in fragment ecstasy,
Unselfed.

Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, turn my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.