Let no light word your silence mar:

This one red flame be all you say,

Between the old and new desire

A solitary point of fire,

The hesitation of a star

Between the twilight and the day.

So rich the pollen of your breath

It is sufficient to be dumb,

Foreknowing, as the moment slips,

That in the parting of our lips

The hour has slain a rose whose death

Will colour all our days to come.