Sun's bliss, leaf shadows, a honeyed breeze—
The world as he would have it be for you,
Your faithful, humble, and obedient servant,
One who has no other goddess before you.
The Name, the Guest, the Beloved are all one,
And he, vouchsafed that vision once, bows down before you.
The blessings of friends, the gratitude of children,
The work of your hands—a table spread before you.
A fantasy he blushes to mention: the desire
To rearrange time since and time before you.
Another not so foolish—he'll wait for you
When he reaches that riverbank, as he supposes, before you.