When the briar brave entwines my grave,
	  And heart, kept cold, is fallow laid
	  Beneath the green and twisted braid
What rose will come to show me saved?

What rose from all the horrored heart
	  Will fly harried from the dour hole?
	  What emblem of the buried soul
Will rise to tell my harrowed part?

If twixt rounds of panting fight or dance
	  All is 'catch our breaths' to kill again
	  And love is all love unspoken
We're but two tigers in a trance

Who pace and leer and wait to leap
	  Who've lungs for roar yet none for love;
	  Who toy and tear the departing dove
And too late let our anger sleep.

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Poems in pieces

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