Well it is, fine to see, elegant and peeled br To fineness, a shell, this beauty. A sea-swell br Rises, spasm, in my spirit. Nothing can shield br Against this shining. Well it is, fine to see - br But across years. Something there is of despair br Nothing of hope. A wound never to be healed br Oozes quietly over the table. Beware br The jewel that mocks age. Yet- an affinity br Is squeezed out of the night, out of the air br Despite the knelling of time’s bell, over the debris br Of too much life gone winging. So I can yield br To the blindness of breasts, the smell and spell br Of hair undone and singing, even be healed br By eyes that tell that though my soul lies all revealed, br There is nothing to repel, that all is well br Fine to see, no need as yet for the long farewell.