Summer ends now; now, barbarous in beauty, the stooks arise  
 Around; up above, what wind-walks! what lovely behaviour  
 Of silk-sack clouds! has wilder, wilful-wavier  
Meal-drift moulded ever and melted across skies?  
I walk, I lift up, I lift up heart, eyes,    
 Down all that glory in the heavens to glean our Saviour;  
 And, éyes, heárt, what looks, what lips yet gave you a  
Rapturous love’s greeting of realer, of rounder replies?  
And the azurous hung hills are his world-wielding shoulder  
 Majestic—as a stallion stalwart, very-violet-sweet!—  
These things, these things were here and but the beholder  
 Wanting; which two when they once meet,  
The heart rears wings bold and bolder  
 And hurls for him, O half hurls earth for him off under his feet.

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