[BNP/E3, 49A3 – 26]

22/4/1913.

O lives fulfilled in tranquil dailiness

O household lives letting the hours go by

With sifting minute hands that at a loom do fly

And throw by throw overcome your bulled happiness

Time passes ye by like a {…} caress

The nursing hours seeing † a belong 

That so doth fly to your soul

|That| you fill it /feel ‘t\ not outside your consciousness…

Let at the least the thought ye give me

Be thought of happiness since felicity…

But I am one t’ whom life is small pain

Of one who hears rain and whose soul is timid

By the blank, swift sound of the witting rain

Blew to loud wilderness[1] by the sudden wound

 
[1] wilderness /wild loudness\