I shut my eyes, I try to remember you.
But as a diver plunging down through sunlight
To meet his azure shadow on the wide water
Shatters through it and is gone,
Thus I, coming suddenly upon your ghost,
See it but cannot grasp it: it is lost.
I stand in the dark and call you. I am alone.

Come to me: stand before me: turn your head
Sharply against the light: put forth one hand
Holding an amber bead: then let it fall.
Say ‘It is nothing!’ Slowly rise and move,
Darkened, against the open window; against the wall
Pause, with the sombre gesture that I love,
And slowly say, ‘I do not understand.’

How I have seen you! How I have drunk of you!
Now, when I most would have you, you escape.
Thus is your mouth? or thus? I do not know.
But see, I ignore you now, bewildering shape,
Flee in the darkness from you . . . And you come
Laughing before me, saying, ‘I love you so!’