IF I had never known your face at all, Had only heard you speak, beyond thick screen Of leaves, in an old garden, when the sheen Of morning dwelt on dial and ivied wall, I think your voice had been enough to call Yourself before me, in living vision seen, So pregnant with your Essence had it been, So charged with you, in each soft rise and fall. At least I know, that when upon the night With chanted word your voice lets loose your soul, I am stricken and pierced and cloven with Delight That hath all Pain within it, and the whole World's tears; all ecstasy of inward sight; And the blind cry of all the seas that roll. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MADRIGAL: 109 by MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI INLAND by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 68 by OMAR KHAYYAM TO A GENTLEMAN & LADY ON THE DEATH ... CHILD NAMED AVIS by PHILLIS WHEATLEY A PICTURE AT NEWSTEAD by MATTHEW ARNOLD IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: THE COURT OF PENANCE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |