(126/64) -- Poems by Claude McKay

And wonder came and filled our night of sleep, Like a new comet crimsoning the sky; And stillness like the stillness of the deep Suspended lay as an unuttered sigh. I never again shall feel your warm hearth flushed, Panting with passion, naked unto mine, Until the throbbing world around is hushed To quiet worship at our scented shrine. Nor will your glory seek my swarthy face, To kindle and to change my jaded frame Into a miracle of godlike grace, Transfigured, bathed in your immortal flame.