White Beauty, Lady, bending from a throne sublime,
Haith claimed His lips with kisses keen as snow:
Now through His Flute the terrors come and go
Of things not stirred with urgencies of time;
Now from the lunar mountains, old and lone,
In dream I watch the humane world remote;
Or on the dim Aldebaran where I belong;
After a star-like Sun from zone to zone.
Led in Beauty's praise, the stern, the Fearful One,
Whose love is as the darkness from afar,
Whose ways are difficult, what name shall be?
I, desolate with Beauty, and undone,
Say Death is not so strong to change on Mnar,
And Love and Life not so desired as She;
The Beauty in Me...
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