I grew Foul weather dreams forebodings

I grew.

Foul weather, dreams, forebodings Were bearing me - a Ganymede - Away from earth; distress was growing Like wings - to spread, to hold, to lead.

I grew.

The veil of woven sunsets At dusk would cling to me and swell.

With wine in glasses we would gather To celebrate a sad farewell,

And yet the eagle's clasp already Refreshes forearms' heated strain.

The days have gone, when, love, you floated Above me, harbinger of pain.

Do we not share the sky, the flying?

Now, like a swan, his death-song done,

Rejoice!

In triumph, with the eagle Shoulder to shoulder, we are one.