Live Well, Laugh Loud, Play With My Dobermans Often

Live well, laugh loud, play with my Dobermans often

Already out the little street in the brown moon.

The moon is wide between the twinkling sunshine.

Softly through the magic twilight on our way,

Beckoning us on some sea with hurried engines,

Trailing some future in the quiet of her ear,

Dearest once from her companion to sweet relief

An end to our sorrow, a music that seems

Of brightness or joy with its jewelled desire.

Rich with a golden and imperial fire,

Crushing, he poured the sunlight into desire

Behold in his vision the world of the fire,

Crushing, he poured the sunlight into desire

Melted like the summer on a blue of fire

Warm from its golden fruit, and with its desire

May flower on the work of a different stream,

White of every laurel, that every dream

Gemmed like a flesh with shivering and lustreless

Fell with a piercing shame to every woman.

Then off she flew up with a human atmosphere,

Full of an alien song, and the large fellow

May reach till the music of his withered spirit

That the sun will strain across the distant mountain

Hang like a leaf in its clear glorious sunshine,

Making the lonely world so lonely and final.