I Saw Lord Buddha Towering By My Gate Saying: "Once More, Good Youth, I Stand And Wait." Saying: "I Bring You My Fair Law Of Peace And From Your Withering Passion Full Release; Release From That White Hand That Stabbed You So. The Road Is Calling. With The Wind You Go, Forgetting Her Imperious Disdain - Quenching All Memory In The Sun And Rain." "Excellent Lord, I Come. But First," I Said, "Grant That I Bring Her These Twelve Roses Red. Yea, Twelve Flower Kisses For Her Rose-Leaf Mouth, And Then Indeed I Go In Bitter Drouth To That Far Valley Where Your River Flows In Peace, That Once I Found In Every Rose."