Worship this world of watercolor mood br in glass pagodas hung with veils of green br where diamonds jangle hymns within the blood br and sap ascends the steeple of the vein. br br A saintly sparrow jargons madrigals br to waken dreamers in the milky dawn, br while tulips bow like a college of cardinals br before that papal paragon, the sun. br br Christened in a spindrift of snowdrop stars, br where on pink-fluted feet the pigeons pass br and jonquils sprout like solomon's metaphors, br my love and I go garlanded with grass. br br Again we are deluded and infer br that somehow we are younger than we were.