Silverpoints by John Gray — Read

I walk the alleys trampled through the wheat, / Through whole blue summer eves, on velvet grass. / Dreaming, I feel the dampness at my feet; / The breezes bathe my naked head and pass.

I do not think a single thought, nor say / A word; but in my soul the mists upcurl / Of infinite love. I will go far away / With nature, happily, as with a girl.