[BNP/E3, 31A – 28]

Let thy hand set

My hair back. Look

Into mine eyes.

There runs a brook

Right through the heat

Of my hushed cries.

Let thy hand rest

Upon my brow.

Let thine eyes smile

Into the unrest

Of mine eyes now

Thine for a while.

Ay, forget not

To let thy touch

Be felt by me.

Light like a thought

Of it, and such

As hope can be

Let thy hand sweep

Over my hair

One little while.

I seem asleep

But cannot bear

To feel me smile.

All things have failed.

All hopes lie dead.

All joys are brief.

Ah let thy hand,

As if it quailed

From feeling sad

Give me relief.

No matter if

None understand.

Oh, on my brow

Let thy hand be.

What life is now

Is worth so little

[28v]

Let my fate be uncertain

Like a breeze no one knowns

Coming whence in the heat.

Let there be ever a curtain

Between me and the shows

Of my uncertain fate.

Thus there will be belief 

In everything that can be

Whether it be great or small.

________________________________

That pain seems brittle

And thought a slough:

Put my hair back

From my brow's pain.

There will be a gain

To me of lack

Of ultimate pain.

What does this mean?

These are words set

To an idle tune.

What I regret

Hath never been…

Lest my rest fret,

True rest, come soon…