[BNP/E3, 49A3 – 36]

26-2-13

When will soft winds be cool

On foreheads fevered with life?...

My heart is a † pool – 

With rotten weedery rife…

___

I have loved and I have hated,

Remembered, and forgot

When all that is, is

|And now my heart| sated

Even of[1] what it had not.

__________

Will the soft winds blow[2] sour

Out of my sense, like a sleep?...

My soul is a lost languor

Who is thus no creeps creep

__________

I have liked days brought and dreary

And have named[3] them joy and distress

More all that is[4] I us weary

Even of weariness.

_______

 
[1] of /with\
[2] blow /come\
[3] named /called\
[4] is /was\