a thing most new complete fragile intense,

which wholly trembling memory undertakes

—your kiss, the little pushings of flesh, makes

my body sorry when the minute moon

is a remarkable splinter in the quick

of twilight

. . . . or if sunset utters one

unhurried muscled huge chromatic

fist skilfully modeling science

—to feel how through the stopped entire day

horribly and seriously thrills

the moment of enthusiastic space

is a little wonderful, and say

Perhaps her body touched me; and to face

suddenly the lighted living hills