A Subtle Dream

We met amongst dull clods of diminishing will

Whilst I was down by the stream.

Soft and subtle, it possessed,

Albeit by quiet means.

Yet from the gloom of that little brook,

I tried to shake the dream,

Tried to find

That honied light,

That dewy golden scene,

Drawing dawn on subtle sleep,

I anointed and,

In passion steeped,

My glum cocoon,

My dormant hive,

I bit and burnt,

Alive, alive!