Classic Poem

I dreamed that all your being was a cup,
Shaped like the hands of an adoring priest.
I dreamed that loving had transposed my blood to wine.
I scented the wine with my low-whispered songs,
So the red liquor was Love's self —

Then with an ecstasy I spilled myself into the cup.

My soul was driven from my body
And waited watching, like pearl-coloured flame;
That flame was prayer,
I prayed you might contain me.

If the arching fulness of the cup be broken,
If Love shall overflow the cup
And fall like blood from a wound,
Then shall my soul's light die.

O, Man, contain me!