Page:Love Poems and Others.djvu/27

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Nay, even the slumberous egg, as it labours under the shell,  Patiently to divide, and self-divide,Asks to be hidden, and wishes nothing to tell.
But when I draw the scanty cloak of silence over my eyes,Piteous Love comes peering under the hood.Touches the clasp with trembling fingers, and triesTo put her ear to the painful sob of my blood,While her tears soak through to my breast,   Where they burn and cauterise.
III The moon lies back and reddens. In the valley, a corncrake calls    Monotonously, With a piteous, unalterable plaint, that deadens    My confident activity: With a hoarse, insistent request that falls    Unweariedly, unweariedly,    Asking something more of me,      Yet more of me!

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