To think of thee, to think of thee! O privilege too pure for me!— Though I could part the sacred veil Within my soul, and show thee pale Against a golden light, With long hands folded on thy breast, Like some Madonna, drawn to rest Upthrough a jasper night. To dream of thee, to dream of thee! O sweetness far too sweet for me!— To seek thy bosom like a dove, To cling about thy feet like love, What earthly dream shall dare? Let mine but hear the cushat call Through roseries thy faint foot-fall Hath silenced, like a prayer. To think of thee, to dream of thee! O ecstasy too rare for me!— Nay! Thou art but a colour through All fantasies I ever knew, Love, Love!—Or wilt thou be An odour of hid lilies in All dells of reverie I win?— O Sweet, suffice it thee! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A TERNARIE OF LITTLES, UPON A PIPKIN OF JELLIE by ROBERT HERRICK SHADOWS: 2 by RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES THE LAND O' THE LEAL by CAROLINA OLIPHANT NAIRNE PARADISI GLORIA by THOMAS WILLIAM PARSONS POEM, READ THE SOLDIERS' WELCOME, FRANKLIN, NEW YORK, AUG. 5, 1865 by B. H. BARNES |