but if a living dance upon dead minds
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but if a living dance upon dead minds why,it is love;but at the earliest spear of sun perfectly should disappear moon's utmost magic,or stones speak or one name control more incredible splendor than our merely universe, love's also there: and being here imprisoned,tortured here love everywhere exploding maims and blinds (but surely does not forget,perish, sleep cannot be photographed,measured;disdains the trivial labelling of punctual brains... -Who wields a poem huger than the grave? from only Whom shall time no refuge keep though all the weird worlds must be opened? |
