I listen to your even cadenced breathing,
From the soft curve of parted lips set free;
Only a slender wall of wind-stirred canvas
Between your loveliness asleep and me.
Sleep on, I sit and watch your tent in silence,
White as a sail upon this sandy sea,
And know the Desert's self is not more boundless
Than is the distance 'twixt yourself and me.
Know that I am some low red planet burning.
You in the Zenith, a serene white star,
And I to you, less than the lonely jackals
That howl among the sandy wastes afar.
Sleep on, the Desert sleeps around you, quiet,
Watched by the restless, golden stars above,
Ay, let us sleep; you to your careless waking,
I, with my dreams of unrequited love.
54
