O THOU who at Love's hour ecstatically Upon my heart dost ever more present, Clothed with his fire, thy heart his testament; Whom I have neared and felt thy breath to be The inmost incense of his sanctuary; Who without speech hast owned him, and, intent Upon his will, thy life with mine hast blent, And murmured, "I am thine, thou'rt one with me!" O what from thee the grace, to me the prize, And what to Love the glory,--when the whole Of the deep stair thou tread'st to the dim shoal And weary water of the place of sighs, And there dost work deliverance, as thine eyes Draw up my prisoned spirit to thy soul! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VANISHING BOAT by EDMUND WILLIAM GOSSE SIC VITA by HENRY KING (1592-1669) THE ARAB TO THE PALM by BAYARD TAYLOR A PRESENCE by KENNETH SLADE ALLING BLEAKE'S HOUSE IN BLACKMWORE by WILLIAM BARNES CHERRY-BUDS by GAMALIEL BRADFORD THE INDIAMAN by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. I KNOW THAT YOU ARE SELF-CONSCIOUS by EDWARD CARPENTER ON A PLANT OF VIRGIN'S BOWER; DESIGNED TO COVER GARDEN-SEAT by WILLIAM COWPER |