<<<From above>>>

Ten thousand love-birds, sweet throated & red-plumed, were in my soul, in the red garden of my under-life. There on ten thousand branches they slept as in night-time. You came & they awoke... A dawn burst on them... A long night was ended. God! how they sang... These birds want freedom... But I can let out only one at a time. Each letter, then, is some joy till now jailed... But now sent flying & flying & flying....