MALE AND FEMALE CREATED HE THEM

DIAPHENIA, drunk with sleep,

Drunk with pleasure, drunk with fatigue,

Feels her Corydon’ s fingers creep —

Ring-finger, middle finger, index, thumb —

Strummingly over the smooth sleek drum

Of her thorax.

Meanwhile Händel’ s Gigue

Turns in Corydon’ s absent mind

To Yakka-Hoola.

She can find

No difference in the thrilling touch

Of one who, now, in everything

Is God-like. “Was there ever such

Passion as ours?”

His pianoing

Gives place to simple arithmetic’ s

Simplest constatations:— six

Letters in Gneiss and three in Gnu:

Luncheon to-day cost three and two;

In a year — he couldn’ t calculate

Three-sixty-five times thirty-eight,

Figuring with printless fingers on

Her living parchment.

“Corydon!

I faint, faint, faint at your dear touch.

Say, is it possible... to love too much?”