O
Out of a bed of love
When that immortal hospital made one more moove to soothe
The curless counted body,
And ruin his causes
Over the barbed and shooting sea assumed an army
And swept into our wounds and houses,
I climb to greet the war in which I have no heart but only
That one dark I owe my light,
Call for confessor and wiser mirror but there is none
To glow after the god stoning night
And I am struck as lonely as a holy marker by the sun
No
Praise that the spring time is all
Gabriel and radiant shrubbery as the morning grows joyful
Out of the woebegone pyre
The first stanza is full of very sad and depressing images.  This next stanza is almost a relief to the first, so the speaker begins the relief stanza with “No” to, in a way, contradict the sadness expressed in the first stanza.
Holy Spring