Truth, dreaming, ever dreamed,

Had made mine eyes already like a god's to see:

Of all sea-things that were

Clothed on with water and air,

That none could live more fair

Than thy sweet love long since had shown for love to me.

[Ant. 1.

I knew not, mother of mine,

That one birth more divine

Than all births else of thine

That hang like flowers or jewels on thy deep soft breast

Was left for me to shine

Above thy girdling line

Of bright and breathing brine,

To take mine eyes with rapture and my sense with rest.

[Ant.2.

That this was left for me,

Mother, to have of thee,

To touch, to taste, to see,

To feel as fire fulfilling all my blood and breath,

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