Who Knows What Days I Answer For To-Day: Giving The Bud I Give The Flower. I Bow This Yet Unfaded And A Faded Brow; Bending These Knees And Feeble Knees, I Pray. Thoughts Yet Unripe In Me I Bend One Way, Give One Repose To Pain I Know Not Now, One Leaven To Joy That Comes, I Guess Not How. I Dedicate My Fields When Spring Is Grey. Oh, Rash! (I Smile) To Pledge My Hidden Wheat. I Fold To-Day At Altars Far Apart Hands Trembling With What Toils? In Their Retreat I Seal My Love To-Be, My Folded Art. I Light The Tapers At My Head And Feet, And Lay The Crucifix On This Silent Heart.