Shadowed in your hand

O leave your hand where it lies cool

Upon the eyes whose lids are hot:

Its rosy shade is bountiful

Of silence, and assuages thought.

O lay your lips against your hand

And let me feel your breath through it,

While through the sense your song shall fit

The soul to understand.

The music lives upon my brain

Between your hands within mine eyes;

It stirs your lifted throat like pain,

An aching pulse of melodies.

Lean nearer, let the music pause:

The soul may better understand

Your music, shadowed in your hand

Now while the song withdraws.