River of Fire
What river of
fire is that at the hill top,
No hill, for
her heart, a mountain, indeed,
Perfect in
that, a radiant crop,
That is, but
itself, and will at that lead.
Where are you
from, a star, an ocean, a deep green forest,
You, as you
are, shall be as you are, shall be as to me,
A great
triumph, a proud and honorable crest,
But, as if an
angels call, you respond to me, that I no longer ask, what is she.
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