 | The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston |  |
STRONGER THAN SLEEP.
Weary, my limbs upon my couch I laid,
And dreamt; and in my dream I seemed to see
My lady, who was soon my bride to be,
Silently standing, gazing on my bed,
A crown of bright red roses on her head.
I said, “O love! this hour is sweet to me;
Stretch out your throat, and let us kiss.” Then she
Bowed down her head, her fair brows garlanded.
And dreamt; and in my dream I seemed to see
My lady, who was soon my bride to be,
Silently standing, gazing on my bed,
A crown of bright red roses on her head.
I said, “O love! this hour is sweet to me;
Stretch out your throat, and let us kiss.” Then she
Bowed down her head, her fair brows garlanded.
“Reach out your hand and feel,” her deep eyes said.
I touched; and through soft raiment felt her form
Panting and glowing with the need of love.
Then all the waves of pleasure, deep and warm,
Burst through my veins. My eyes love's hot tears bled,
And I awoke, too weak to speak or move.
I touched; and through soft raiment felt her form
Panting and glowing with the need of love.
Then all the waves of pleasure, deep and warm,
Burst through my veins. My eyes love's hot tears bled,
And I awoke, too weak to speak or move.
| The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | |