ABSTRACT
(originally addressed to Ida Coblenz) At first I overlooked you in my fancies Through seasons dank and sallow where the frenzies Of quest and question left me stripped of power. In seasons dank and sallow, who dared wait For me beneath the tower’s darkest gate? It’s you I think of still at the dark tower: Because, where ominous ramparts block the light, You—for my sake—kept watch the night I faced across cold stone my lonely hour.
