POSITIVELY THE LAST PERFORMANCE!
So here’s an end—and all the truth of you
Is said that can be said—and all the lies.
Clear for the fools who never saw your eyes,
Since you insist we are not one, but two.
Well, fifty years remain to jingle through
In which we will not meet, as you surmise;
And, after that dull masque has changed its guise,
Suppose we make the sun our rendezvous?
Naked and white and beautiful you stand,
Reining your fire-maned coursers with one hand,
And birds are in your laughter as you turn
That gaze of clear perfection to my own,
And meet the petal-kiss that seems to burn,
And makes us less divisible than stone!
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
- Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.