G. I. 2. 9. 14.

So, you return
O bitter delectable girl. When we set you aside
The spirit of mockery leaned on our shoulder and cried...
"Yes, you will burn
All over again for her wantonness crucified".

The streets were dark
And you stole through the mists with the London night in your
eyes
And the rhythm of streets in your walk, through the infinite
skies

Dispassionate, stark
Our two stars winked at the other: "The budden of lies,

Teh old irresistible song,
The burden of pain and disdain and delight and deapair
That blackens the soul of that girl with the light on her hair,
Unassuagable wrong
That began with the stars and endures with them moon for
that pair

Reneweth its might"....
And I put out the talk of the stars, for across the street
I saw her coming on listless delicate feet
Out of the night

Some there are,
(This only saying remains for the comfort of me
As I turn to your soul I must love, but save not nor set
free)

Who when a star
Is offered, or love or delight, or any perfection at all
Must turn them away with a sneer to the mud's cold call,
So you with your bruised feet, and your face from the sea......

...........