clavier quotes

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The body dies; the body's beauty lives.
So evenings die, in their green going,
A wave, interminably flowing.
Of a green evening, clear and warm,
She bathed in her still garden, while
...
Beauty is momentary in the mind--
The fitful tracing of a portal;
But in the flesh it is immortal.
Soon, with a noise like tambourines,
Came her attendant Byzantines.
Susanna's music touched the bawdy strings
Of those white elders; but, escaping,
...
Music is feeling, then, not sound;
And thus it is that what I feel,
Here in this room, desiring you,
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