The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival | ||
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[VII. O Love! thou art a pure and holy thing]
O Love! thou art a pure and holy thing,And none should ever dare to breathe thy name
Whose hearts are lit not with as bright a flame
As sunward burns around the eagle's wing:
O, let me not unworthy offerings bring
To one, whose all-commanding power can tame
Each vagrant wish, and stamp the brand of shame,
Where the least stains of earthly passion cling:
Then let me gather from my inmost heart
Pure feelings, that from infancy have slept,
Silent as waters in a hidden well;
And to the gentle offering then impart
The fire and tears that Sappho breathed and wept,
When her faint cithern gave its dying swell.
The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival | ||