Phaon, O my lover by Bliss Carman — Read

Phaon, O my lover, / What should so detain thee,

Now the wind comes walking / Through the leafy twilight?

All the plum-leaves quiver / With the coolth and darkness,

After their long patience / In consuming ardour.

And the moving grasses / Have relief; the dew-drench

Comes to quell the parching / Ache of noon they suffered.

I alone of all things / Fret with unsluiced fire.

And there is no quenching / In the night for Sappho,

Since her lover Phaon / Leaves her unrequited.