Melody made of sweet agonies,

Exquisite joys poured from pitchers of pain,

As this summer's heat

From the ever-burning heart of heaven.

Not heaven alone;

The earth, the air, flowers, and leaves

Filled with passion that knows no slaking,

Yet tranquil like sleep's dream-billowed sea.

More than dream-billowed sea this love that I bring,

Its boistrous waves seek the firmament of your yielding;

While your heart-beats' arrows seek to slay my heart a'beating,

As I inhale the fragrance of your breath and hair;

And pour the perfume of my soul

On your sun-bathed feet.

[17]

[17]

13

Why this return?

Why this sunlight

When all seemed without sun?

 Prev. P 18/82 next