A body of beauty is mine.O poet, moulder of me,Withhold not the breath divine,The soul of truth that makes free.Fair form in repose for a day(The body of beauty of me)With the pulse-beats of life all away,Is well, for beauty and thee.Yet give to me life all aglow,—Not a demon of darkness to blight,But a love-lit soul pure as snow,—Beckon me an angel of light.A body of beauty is mine.O poet, moulder of me,Inbreathe with breathings divine,Or body alone let it be.