Is it for now or for always,
The world hangs on a stalk?
Is it a trick or a trysting—place,
The woods we have found to walk?
 
Is it a mirage or miracle,
Your lips that lift at mine:
And the suns like a juggler’s juggling—balls,
Are they a sham or a sign?
 
Shine out, my sudden angel,
Break fear with breast and brow,
I take you now and for always,
For always is always now.

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