I only wanted room to be alone.
I saw the days like little silver moons
Cool and restrained shine forth; there were no noons
To make me glad with glory, to atone.
I dreamed of solitude. When one has known
Ardent and eager verity, the tunes
Of semi-truths are sweet, as subtle runes
Attest the bud more dear than flower full blown.

To be alone, to watch the dusk and weep
For beauty's face that is so veiled, to know
How exquisite the earth breaths come and go,
To feel my life a silent, empty room
Where lovely thoughts might take new shape and bloom,—
This is the dream that is more dear than sleep.