Vision

You who flutter and quiver An instant Just beyond my apprehension; Lady, I will find the white orchid for you, If you will but give me One smile between those wayward drifts of hair.

I will break the wild berries that loop themselves over the marsh-pool, For your sake, And the long green canes that swish against each other, I will break, to set in your hands. For there is no wonder like to you, You who flutter and quiver An instant Just beyond my apprehension.