Tumultuous heaved, while separation throbs
Hard at her heart, and longing rears to Death
Two prayerful eyes of pleading "for one breath —
An ardor of fierce life – crushed in his arms
Close, close! and, oh, for such, all these smooth charms,
Full, sentient charms voluptuous evermore!"
And sweet to know these sensitive vows shall soar
Ev'n to the dull ear of her drowsy lord
Beside her; heart-defying with each word
Harped in the bird's voice rhythmically clear.
And thus he sang to her who was not there:
"She comes! her presence, like a moving song
Breathed soft of loveliest lips and lute-like tongue,
Sways all the gurgling forests from their rest:
I fancy where her rustling foot is pressed,
So faltering, love seems timid, but how strong
That darling love that flutters in her breast!
"She comes! and the green vistas are stormed thro' —
As if wild wings, wet-varnished with dripped dew,
Had dashed a sudden sunbeam tempest past,
– With her eyes' inspiration clearly chaste;
A rhythmic lavishment of bright gray blue,
Long arrows of her eyes perfection cast.
"Ah, God! she comes! and, Love, I feel thy breath,
Like the soft South who idly wandereth
Thro' musical leaves of laughing laziness,
Page on before her, how sweet – none can guess!
To say my soul 'Here's harmony dear as death
To sigh wild vows, or utterless, to bless.'
"She comes! ah, God! and all my brain is brave
To war for words to laud her and to lave
Her queenly beauty in such vows whereof
May hush melodious cooings of a dove:
For her light feet the favored path to pave
With oaths, like roses, raving mad with love.
"She comes! in me a passion – as the moon
Works madness in strong men – my blood doth swoon
Towards her glory; and I feel her soul
Cling lip to lip with mine; and now the whole
Mix with me, aching like a tender tune
Exhausted; lavished in a god's control.
"She comes! ah, Christ! ye eager stars that grace
The fragmentary skies, that dimple space,
Clink, and I hear her harp-sweet footfalls come:
Ah, wood-indulging, violet-vague perfume,
Art of her presence, of her wild-flower face,
That like some gracious blossom stains the gloom?
"Oh, living exultation of the blood!
That now – as sunbursts, the almighty mood
Of some moved god, scatter the storm that roars,
And hush – her love like some spent splendor pours
Into it all immaculate maidenhood,
And all the heart that hesitates – adores.
"Vanquished! so vanquished! – ah, triumphant sweet!
The height of heaven – supine at thy feet!
Where love feasts crowned, and basks in such a glare
As hearts of suns burn, in thine eyes and hair,
Unutterable with raveled fires that cheat
The ardent clay of me and make me air.
"And so, rare witch, thy blood, like some lewd wine,
Shall subtly make me, like thee, half divine;
And, – sweet rebellion! – clasp thee till thou urge
To combat close of savage kisses: surge
A war that rubies all thy proud cheeks' shine, —
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