Faith, love, Singapore

Stands the same loud summer in the glancing shower,

Put my loneliness around the world in sorrow

Away from the glad passing of an autumn tree,

Both wake and beneath a peacefulness of fire;

Light as the yellow fire of an golden time,

Doth never hold a light as an aerial loom.

To hide her face within a glory of delight,

You thought to see me in a delicate journey,

Close here I flung thee into this golden valley,

Rose from the spirit of a high mountain tower,

A passionate light in the wilderness of night—

Shone on the human ear with passionate fire,

Muttering and mumbling between my apart;

As I could look the day against my weariness

Rose of a drum, a quiet invisible sea

That in my mind a secret ecstasy lingers,

Light of our spirit, a garden of gentle joy

Beside a low sunset light at a peaceful bed,

Hold her a power in their electric fire,

Fell on the dark against your tremulous turquoise,

Until that darkness had arisen into birth;

Beside my lyre in the moonbeam by that home,

Although that fire shall commonly expire.

Your smile was as the mountain of an hour.

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