[BNP/E3, 49A1 – 59]

‘Tis the soft gleam of {…}

{…} and L. The Moon

In the silence that she makes,

As her light’s transcendent boon,

O’er the streams and o’er the lakes

Making[1] such a gleam, so fair

That is makes the spirit swoon

In its inmost despair

That this should be and shall be not

That we should love and should gain

For this, for what here we scent 

Deeper than we divine

20-9-07

 [59v]

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How it cuts into the soul

That we should not {…} be one

Save but with this: beauty’s whole

But shall ever see it spun

Beauty as the love o’the world

And we looked in ourselves, move 

Never into its left {…}

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That motion dresses e’e shall render

But {…}

That we but shall be {…} tender

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Oh that what is should exist

Oh that what is here should be

Should that be in that mist

{…} toy of your mystery

What is beauty that is seeing

What this all that before me

Is a weird and unexplained dreaming?

 
[1] Making/eth\