IF every poet needs his Muse
For love however, far or faint.
Maybe she, in ev'ry woman is;
more in some chosen, very few.
Yet I know her, and her touch;
light, of arm-in-arm, and close.
But never should I see her face;
always veiled to my other sight.
I have known her by her deeds,
and casual mercies to the weak.

SHE keeps a secret of her name
And a deep sound, in her word.
Thus we loved, it was in dream;
yet both hers and mine to keep.
Without reason, no need hope;
I her love, though far and faint.
Thus I must live, by faith, alone.
For she is shining, in the dark.
She the shining, of the dark.
See the shining: I the dark.

Musing
in the
NIGHT