ISSUE: Spring 1944
You say you. are all mine,
And mine alone.
And yet today
You secretly eloped
With a gay young wind
To a far-away woods.
You danced with a tall spring tree,
And swam with the spirited current
Of a mountain stream.
When the light of a late sun
Softly claimed the forest freshness
After rain:
You sought the sensuous sun’s embrace.
And now that, breathless,
I have found you,
Love: Too much you let the after-shower foliage Hide from me!
No, only part of you is mine.
No, not the better part.
And I am jealous of so many lovers.
