how well you held account

Granted our choice say it is Metaphysic.
Shales the tide backward where it paused self-gathered;
Mutterings endless the salt wound of Being
                   Sutured by dolphins.

Hold in vision windbreaks and winter jasmine;
As for these eyes only by your responding
Whether some Welsh chine is to take its colour
                   Into rememberance.

I cannot shew you any further legend
Than of our marvellously entertaining
Chastity; our lives' instrumental voyage
                   Winning remission.

When the hands touch trust me to apprehend this.
So young so untried it had best be instinct.
I should call impulse comprehension's talon.
                   Well may it strike us

In effect here, now, far-off, predetermined;
Freely like mere providence. It is nor out
Grief devalues clamant eternals. I am
                   Sick of this dying

Time that bends so beautifully around things;
Justice named sum total of ev'ry virtue.
Mia cara, how well you held account of
                   Seabird and shadow.

Geoffrey Hill. Odi Barbare. The Senecio Press (2012).