I.
When I press unto mine arms with thirst of capture,
The fond form my yearning senses idolize;
The pale thought of separation from such rapture,
Comes to chill me with its terrible surprise.
II.
As I kiss the loving head so fair, so fragile,
With its golden wealth of luminous soft hair,
I feel sensuously the young life free and agile,
That craves naught save utter love to win and share.
III.
But those glorious eyes imperial of flashes,
That proud love in which I revel with my trust,
Must return some day to darkness and to ashes,
And its loveliness must crumble into dust.
IV.
And that heart that glows for me with such pure burning,
That great heart of which my amour is so vain,
Must depart to glooms from whence is no returning,
And must leave me to my loneliness and pain.
V.
This I know and feel; and tremble as I cherish
The frail love-cloyed wonder dreaming in my arms,
And the thought alone that such a prize might perish
Eleats my senses with the fever of alarms.
VI.
For if she should die and friends knew what befell me,
They would haunt my woe and poignant grief sincere,
And with solemn voice beside the corpse would tell me,
Of eternity and some far better sphere.
VII.
They would tell me that most radiant and immortal,
She would wait for me despite the fears of tomb;
And that on the grim gray threshold of Death's portal,
We could meet again our transport to resume.
VIII.
Taking kisses of white snows from mountains chilly,
Stealing murmurs from the music of the sea,
Taking perfume from the rose or from the lily,
Is like taking her fond memory from me.
IX.
She is all and all of me, love hath no limit,
And I scorn to bound a passion equal mine,
It was born of her, and she alone can dim it,
Until then its flame shall calmly, nobly shine.
X.
And I need no ministering angel hovering round me,
To protect me and to turn me from despair;
For my love has found her out and she has found me,
And when dead we cannot sympathize elsewhere.
XI.
What care I of after life when I have lost her,
What is there that can her loveliness replace,
What kind germ of hope can my soul ever foster,
When mine eyes see not the splendor of her face?
XII.
I shall find her, yes, I doubt it not, but splendent,
And in haloes of great glory and great light;
But the old, old love, so noble and transcendent,
Will not rise again to penetrate my night.
XIII.
No, if she should die, I need no prayer that blesses,
And no soothing hymn could cure a wound like this,
Being reft of all the balm of her caresses,
And the soft, sad, slumbering silence of her kiss.
XIV.
I would sooner fight with Death my unfair duel,
And live on despite this fatal horoscope;
For the pain I would endure would be less cruel,
Than the horrid, bitter promise of such hope.
XV.
For I need her now, when Love all love assuages,
When our youth and ardor mutually blend;
And I mock the dim, gray Future of dead ages,
And I need no life hereafter to befriend.
XVI.
Yes, I need her now, with all her grace and splendor,
With her ebon eyes that beam with love and prayer;
I am thirsting for the contact of her, tender,
And the strange, delirious perfume of her hair.
XVII.
And should Death essay her gentle breath to sunder,
I would hope not, pray not, knowing all were vain,
That we never more should meet above or under,
That our spirits ne'er would fuse and blend again.
XVIII.
I would find new strength and soul should Death bereave me,
No pale tear of pain would glisten in my eye;
I would love enough to let her spirit leave me,
And would live without a hope, without a sigh.
When I press unto mine arms with thirst of capture,
The fond form my yearning senses idolize;
The pale thought of separation from such rapture,
Comes to chill me with its terrible surprise.
II.
As I kiss the loving head so fair, so fragile,
With its golden wealth of luminous soft hair,
I feel sensuously the young life free and agile,
That craves naught save utter love to win and share.
III.
But those glorious eyes imperial of flashes,
That proud love in which I revel with my trust,
Must return some day to darkness and to ashes,
And its loveliness must crumble into dust.
IV.
And that heart that glows for me with such pure burning,
That great heart of which my amour is so vain,
Must depart to glooms from whence is no returning,
And must leave me to my loneliness and pain.
V.
This I know and feel; and tremble as I cherish
The frail love-cloyed wonder dreaming in my arms,
And the thought alone that such a prize might perish
Eleats my senses with the fever of alarms.
VI.
For if she should die and friends knew what befell me,
They would haunt my woe and poignant grief sincere,
And with solemn voice beside the corpse would tell me,
Of eternity and some far better sphere.
VII.
They would tell me that most radiant and immortal,
She would wait for me despite the fears of tomb;
And that on the grim gray threshold of Death's portal,
We could meet again our transport to resume.
VIII.
Taking kisses of white snows from mountains chilly,
Stealing murmurs from the music of the sea,
Taking perfume from the rose or from the lily,
Is like taking her fond memory from me.
IX.
She is all and all of me, love hath no limit,
And I scorn to bound a passion equal mine,
It was born of her, and she alone can dim it,
Until then its flame shall calmly, nobly shine.
X.
And I need no ministering angel hovering round me,
To protect me and to turn me from despair;
For my love has found her out and she has found me,
And when dead we cannot sympathize elsewhere.
XI.
What care I of after life when I have lost her,
What is there that can her loveliness replace,
What kind germ of hope can my soul ever foster,
When mine eyes see not the splendor of her face?
XII.
I shall find her, yes, I doubt it not, but splendent,
And in haloes of great glory and great light;
But the old, old love, so noble and transcendent,
Will not rise again to penetrate my night.
XIII.
No, if she should die, I need no prayer that blesses,
And no soothing hymn could cure a wound like this,
Being reft of all the balm of her caresses,
And the soft, sad, slumbering silence of her kiss.
XIV.
I would sooner fight with Death my unfair duel,
And live on despite this fatal horoscope;
For the pain I would endure would be less cruel,
Than the horrid, bitter promise of such hope.
XV.
For I need her now, when Love all love assuages,
When our youth and ardor mutually blend;
And I mock the dim, gray Future of dead ages,
And I need no life hereafter to befriend.
XVI.
Yes, I need her now, with all her grace and splendor,
With her ebon eyes that beam with love and prayer;
I am thirsting for the contact of her, tender,
And the strange, delirious perfume of her hair.
XVII.
And should Death essay her gentle breath to sunder,
I would hope not, pray not, knowing all were vain,
That we never more should meet above or under,
That our spirits ne'er would fuse and blend again.
XVIII.
I would find new strength and soul should Death bereave me,
No pale tear of pain would glisten in my eye;
I would love enough to let her spirit leave me,
And would live without a hope, without a sigh.