Men’s Love

Men’s Love

Rise the waves of sea, rise the hands of lovers;

Scream O Men, Scream to midair the poetry;

Tune the summer bird, fly the wind of winter;

Charmed by song’s the women already;

Rapture means dead, O rapture means dead;

All men are rabbity, and love’s heaven’s breath;

But none of heaven’s men’s smelled,

As she set ‘em to poet.