Underneath My Stiffened Gown Is The Softness

Now You Are Come! You Tremble Like A Star Poised Where, Behind Earth's Rim, The Sun Has Set. Your Voice Has Sung Across My Heart, But Numb And Mute, I Have No Tones To Answer.

Brighter Than Fireflies Upon The Uji River Are Your Words In The Dark, Beloved.

To-night When The Full-bellied Moon Swallows The Stars. Grant That I Know.

Freighted With Hope, Crimsoned With Joy, We Scatter The Leaves Of Our Opening Rose.

Only Those Of Our Poets Who Kept Solidly To The Shakespearean Tradition Achieved Any Measure Of Success. But Keats Was The Last Great Exponent Of That Tradition, And We All Know How Thin, How Lacking In Charm, The Copies Of Keats Have Become.