Encounter In The Chestnut Avenue

He felt the entrance’s green darkness
Wrapped cooly round him like a silken cloak
That he was still accepting and arranging;
When at the opposite transparent end, far off,

Through green sunlight, as through green window panes,
Whitely a solitary shape
Flared up, long remaining distant
And then finally, the downdriving light
Boiling over it at every step,

Bearing on itself a bright pulsation,
Which in the blond ran shyly to the back.
But suddenly the shade was deep,
And nearby eyes lay gazing

From a clear new unselfconscious face,
Which, as in a portrait, lived intensely
In the instant things split off again:
First there forever, and then not at all.

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Encounter In The Chestnut Avenue