Page:Poems PiattVol2.djvu/138

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126
LEAVING LOVE.
If she should moan: "Ah, land of flower and fruit,
Ah, fiercely languid land, undo your charm!
Ah, song impassioned, make your music mute!
Ah, bosom, shake away my clinging arm!"

Then swiftly climb into the mountains near,
And set her face forever toward the snow,
And feel the North in chasm and cliff, and hear
No echo from the fairyland below;

If she should feel her own new loneliness,
With every deep-marked, freezing step she trod,
Nearing (and in its nearness growing less)
The vast and utter loneliness of God;

If back to scented valleys she should call,
This woman that I fancy—only she—
Would it remind one statue there at all,
O cruel Silence in the South, of—me?