i.

Vouchsafe, my Lady! by the passion-flower,

V

V

V

And by the glamour of a moonlit hour,

And by the cries and sighs of all the birds

That sing o'nights, to heed again the words

Of my poor pleading! For I swear to thee

My love is deeper than the bounding sea,

And more conclusive than a wedding-bell,

And freer-voiced than winds upon the lea.

ii.

[26] 

[26]

In all the world, from east unto the west,

I

I

I

There is no vantage-ground, and little rest,

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