There is a strong wall about me to protect me:
It is built of the words you have said to me.

There are swords about me to keep me safe:
They are the kisses of your lips.

Before me goes a shield to guard me from harm:
It is the shadow of your arms between me and danger.

All the wishes of my mind know your name,
And the white desires of my heart
They are acquainted with you.
The cry of my body for completeness,
That is a cry to you.
My blood beats out your name to me, unceasing, pitiless —
Your name, your name.

The sacred Nine delight in cruel Love ,
Tread in his Steps, and all his Ways approve:
Should some rude Swain, whom Love could ne'er refine,
Woo the fair Muses, they his Suit decline;
But if the love-sick Shepherd sweetly sing,
The tuneful Choir, attending in a Ring,
Catch the soft Sounds, and tune the vocal Shell;
This Truth by frequent Precedent I tell:
For when I praise some Hero on my Lyre,
Or, nobly daring, to a God aspire,
In Strains more languid flows the nerveless Song,
Or dies in faltering Accents on my Tongue:

I.

How beautiful, how beautiful you streamed upon my sight,
In glory and in grandeur, as a gorgeous sunset-light!
How softly, soul-subduing, fell your words upon mine ear,
Like low aerial music when some augel hovers near!
What tremulous, faint ecstacy to clasp your hand in mine,
Till the darkness fell upon me of a glory too divine!
The air around grew languid with our intermingled breath,
And in your beauty's shadow I sank motionless as death.
I saw you not, I heard not, for a mist was on my brain —

Thou hast love within thine eyes,
Though they be as dark as night;
And a pity (shewn by sighs)
Heaveth in thy bosom white;
What is all the azure light
Which the northern beauties shew,
If disdain be sharp and bright,
Where the tender love should glow;

Do I love thee? — Lady, no!
I was born for other skies;
Where the palmy branches grow,
And the unclouded mornings rise:

I love your throat, so fragrant, fair,
The little pulses beating there;
Your eye-brows' shy and questioning air;
I love your shadowed hair.

I love your flame-touched ivory skin;
Your little fingers frail and thin;
Your dimple creeping out and in;
I love your pointed chin

I love the way you move, you rise;
Your fluttering gestures, just-caught cries;
I am not sane, I am not wise,
God! how I love your eyes!

The Pleiads now no more are seen,
Nor shines the silver Moon serene,
In dark and dismal Clouds o'ercast;
The love appointed Hour is past:
Midnight usurps her sable Throne,
And yet, alas! I lie alone.

The Moon has veil'd her Silver Light,
The Pleiades have left the Sky;
It's now the silent Noon of Night,
The Love-sworn Hour is past; yet I
Alone, deserted, pining lie!

I S it Nature? — Is it Art,
That can wind thee round my heart?
Where are now ( thy conquering arms)
Beauty's flame, and vernal charms?
Dimpled smiles, and blooming cheek,
That in love, though mute, could speak?
They are vanish'd — they are fled —
Still in fetters I am led;
Memory no more can tell,
Why in youth we lov'd so well;
Or describe the magic power,
That enchanted every hour?
All her shadows, in the air,
Of the parting ray despair.
It is habit that endears ,

MAN , man loves his steed,
For its blood or its breed,
For its odour the rose, for its honey the bee;
His own haughty beauty
From pride or from duty;
But I love my love, because — he loves me .

Oh, my love has an eye,
Like a star in the sky,
And breath like the sweets from the hawthorn tree;
And his heart is a treasure,
Whose worth is past measure;
And yet he hath given all — all to me!

It crowns me with light,
In the dead of the night,

I.

Y E earthly vanities depart,
For ever hence remove;
Jesus alone deserves my heart,
And every thought of love.

II.

His heart, where love and pity dwelt
In all their softest forms,
Sustain'd the heavy load of guilt,
For lost rebellious worms;

III.

His heart, whence love abundant flow'd
To wash the stains of sin,
In precious streams of vital blood —