To Give, Yet To Forgive(First Line)

To give, yet to forgive
the seasons of all fortune,
to but prepare the maker's way
for fulfilling of the wanton wishes
of those whose breath
in life's sweet aroma
of roses' thorns in bloom
on aridly pungent ground so real;

To feel, yet to bequeth
the sorrow for one light touch
from a gentle lovers' hand---
To arise from glorious ritual,
expressionless in thoughtful moment
of summer sun and wetted trees---
But to give this through a vein
in warming grace spoken of lightly.