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what's o'clock
49
SONG FOR A VIOLA D'AMORE
The lady of my choice is bright
As a clematis at the touch of night,
As a white clematis with a purple heart
When twilight cuts earth and sun apart.
Through the dusking garden I hear her voice
Asa smooth, sweet, wandering, windy noise,
And I see her stand as a ghost may do
In answer to a rendez-vous
Long sought with agony and prayer.
So watching her, I see her there.

I sit beneath a quiet tree
And watch her everlastingly.
The garden may or may not be
Before my eyes, I cannot see.