She is forth to cheer a neighbour lacking mirth. I once a white dove, sole light of earth. You are of life's, on the banks that line the way. Breathes a falling breath that carries thoughts of me. Bears me to her pillow under white rose-wreaths.
White sails lean along the waves leaping green.
Through the long noon coo, crooning through the coo. Here may life on death or death on life be painted. Where there is no window, read not heaven or her. Yet am I the light and living of her eyes. Soon will she lie like a white-frost sunrise.