Classic Poem

Lady , my wedded thought,
When to thy shape 'tis wrought,
Can think of nothing else
But only of thy grace,
And of those gentle ways
Wherein thy life excels.
For ever, sweet one, dwells
Thine image on my sight,
(Even as it were the gem
Whose name is as thy name)
And fills the sense with light.

Continual ponderings
That brood upon these things
Yield constant agony:
Yea, the same thoughts have crept
About me as I slept.
My spirit looks at me,
And asks, " Is sleep for thee?
Nay, mourner, do not sleep,
But fix thine eyes, for lo!
Love's fullness thou shalt know
By steadfast gaze and deep."

Then, burning, I awake,
Sore tempted to partake
Of dreams that seek thy sight:
Until, being greatly stirr'd,
I turn to where I heard
That whisper in the night;
And there a breath of light
Shines like a silver star.
The same is mine own soul,
Which lures me to the goal
Of dreams that gaze afar.

But now my sleep is lost;
And through this uttermost
Sharp longing for thine eyes
At length it may be said
That I indeed am mad
With love's extremities.
Yet when in such sweet wise
Thou passest and dost smile,
My heart so fondly burns,
That unto sweetness turns
Its bitter pang the while.

Even so Love rends apart
My spirit and my heart,
Lady, in loving thee;
Till when I see thee now,
Life beats within my brow
And would be gone from me.
So hear I ceaselessly,
Love's whisper well fulfill'd —
Even I am he, even so,
Whose flame thy heart doth know:
And while I strive I yield.