FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   27   28   29   30   31   32   33   34   35   36   37   38   39   40   41   >>  
ansom from the bonds of Hell. Thou wilt, I say, admit the truth of this, And half relent that, shrinking from a kiss, Thou didst consign me to mine own disdain, Athwart the raptures of a vision'd bliss. ix. I'll seek no joy that is not link'd with thine, No touch of hope, no taste of holy wine, And, after death, no home in any star That is not shared by thee, supreme, afar, As here thou'rt first and foremost of all things! Glory is thine and gladness and the wings That wait on thought when, in thy spirit-sway, Thou dost invest a realm unknown to kings. x. I will accept of thee a poison-bowl And drink the dregs thereof,--aye! to the soul,-- And sound thy praises with my latest breath! I was a pilgrim bound for Nazareth, But when I knew thee, when I touched thy hand, I changed my purpose; and to-day I stand Thine amorous vassal, though denounced afresh And warn'd away, unkiss'd, from Edenland. xi. O flower unequall'd here from morn to morn, Is't well, bethink thee, with a rose's thorn To deck thyself, thou lily! and to seem So irresponsive to my passion-dream? Is't a caprice of thine to look so proud, And so severe, athwart the shining cloud Of thy long hair? And shall I never learn How least to grieve thee when my vows are vow'd? xii. The full perfection of thy face is such That, like a child's, it seems to know the touch Of some glad hour that God has smiled upon. There is a whiteness whiter than the swan, A singing sweeter than the linnet's note. But there is nothing whiter than thy throat, And nothing sweeter than thy tender voice When, love-attuned, it skyward seems to float. xiii. Lily and rose in one! To find thy peer Exceeds belief, all through the varying year, For chance thereof, and hope thereof, is none. There comes no rival to the rising sun, And none to thee!--no rival to the moon That sets in Venice on the far lagoon, And none to thee, thou marvel of the months, That art the cynosure of night and noon! xiv. Yes, I will hope. I will not cease to turn My thoughts to thee, and cry to thee, and yearn As one in Hell may lift enamour'd eyes To some sweet soul beyond the central skies Whose face has slain him! For 'tis true, I swear: I have been murder'd by thy golden hair, And by the brightness of those fringed orbs That are at once my joy and my despair. xv. Winter is wild; but spring will come again; For there's compun
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   27   28   29   30   31   32   33   34   35   36   37   38   39   40   41   >>  



Top keywords:
thereof
 

whiter

 

sweeter

 

attuned

 

skyward

 
Exceeds
 
grieve
 

smiled

 
singing
 

whiteness


tender

 

perfection

 
throat
 

linnet

 
belief
 

marvel

 
golden
 
murder
 

central

 

brightness


spring

 

compun

 

Winter

 

fringed

 

despair

 

Venice

 

lagoon

 

months

 

varying

 

chance


rising

 
cynosure
 

thoughts

 

enamour

 

supreme

 
things
 

foremost

 
shared
 

gladness

 
unknown

accept
 

invest

 
thought
 
spirit
 

relent

 

shrinking

 
consign
 

vision

 
disdain
 

Athwart