East and west : the discovery of America and other poems ::

SONNET. HER LOVE.

I would thou wert a moon, and I thy cloud
To wrap in rifted tangles of my tresses
Thy soul's white naked mirror, lave caresses
Of soft pale pleading lips where thou art browed
With coronets of constellations proud
Meet for thy regal thought; blue wildernesses
Spreading eternal couch where love confesses
Her airy penetrations, where the shroud
Of my translucent bosom kindling gleams,
Melted upon thy flame in blissful swoon,
Fused with the silver passion of thy dreams;
Thy heart's strung harp a-throb with hidden tune
Winged from the primal pulse of God's own themes.
O joy to be a cloud, and thou my moon!

University of Virginia Library

SONNET. HER LOVE.