You, Beloved, are the silvery lake shimmering in the desert of my youth. - Blanche Shoemaker Wagstaff

I shall go smiling </br> Into the great beyond, </br> Looking upon the silence as release, </br> Looking upon the darkness as a dream, </br> Looking upon the deep unknown as rest.

Bring me a pale flower-boy, </br> White-limbed like a young heifer in a field, </br> His lips a-quiver with unknown desire.... </br> His soft throat virgin beneath my kiss, </br> His bosom like a bower of stars.

There is a little place in me </br> That cries like any child, </br> To be as forest things are, free, </br> Lonely, and strange and wild!