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1886–1950

IX

William Rose Benét

True love runs wild and wildly understands. I took the bread of Heaven once from your two hands. And your eyes are upon me even as I sing, Saying, “Be of comfort. Death is a little thing.”

Oh, magic child and woman, who crept into my heart, Who hold me with strong arms from all the world apart — No, I will not say it — for your eyes grieve; I will say you draw us all to Heaven — your Heaven, by your leave!

Lady Simplicitas, who hummed like any bee Little quaint and olden rhymes to keep simplicity, Lady of the downcast eyes and sudden starry mirth, And eloquence by torchlight for the wronged of all the earth,

True love runs wild and wildly understands! I took the wine of Heaven once from your two hands; And when your eyes were darkened for the world's red smart You made a violet twilight as you pressed against my heart.

For that coiled hair's brown crown, for that sweet and seemly way, The straight thoughts, the eager words, the dazzle of your day, Shall I turn base then and learn to whine and curse? Not though daggers of memory flicker through this verse!

For true love runs wild and wildly understands. I took the sacrament of love from your two hands. So shall I cross the sunset hill and climb the pasture bars And meet you in our porch at last, in the Village of the Stars.

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IX · William Rose Benét · Poetry Cove