She has the morning long songs
And the English happy odes on August.
She almost died young by the sea.
Yet the death was kept in wilderness
Where summer rises and autumn fades
In orb of fears.
O dearest summer of morrow!
Quench the gloomy fire inside me
May you live longer and crown
The throne of life.
Fly, Fly, Fly
Half seen, half naked in Eden
Use your artless language
Your sea breeze, your childhood gifts
Dope me, wall me
I am no longer dead.
It was my 55th birthday
And tomorrow is my 69th
No doubt I bring but purity
As a weak nosegay
Writing my history on a blank page
And gazing into the evenings
Like old face of Austin and books.
O bless my celestial sunny hours
Till their minds remember this divine birth.