Wind among the Reeds — He Bids His Beloved be at Peace
| I hear the Shadowy Horses, their long manes a-shake, |
| Their hoofs heavy with tumult, their eyes glimmering
white; |
| The North unfolds above them clinging, creeping night, |
| The East her hidden joy before the morning
break, |
| The West weeps in pale dew and sighs passing away, |
| The South is pouring down roses of crimson
fire: |
| O vanity of Sleep, Hope, Dream, endless Desire, |
| The Horses of Disaster plunge in the heavy clay: |
| Beloved, let your eyes half close, and your heart beat |
| Over my heart, and your hair fall over my breast, |
| Drowning love’s lonely hour in deep twilight of rest, |
| And hiding their tossing manes and their tumultuous
feet. |