VII—BODY AND SOUL
I
O, thou my Love, love first my lonely soul!
Then shall this too unworthy body of mine
Be loved by right and accident divine.
Forget the flesh, that the pure spirit's goal
May be the spirit; let that stand the whole
Of what thou lov'st in me. So will the shine
Of soul that strikes on soul make fair and fine
This earthy tenement; thou shalt extol
The inner, that the outer lovelier seem.
Thy lover, who thy love implores, doth fear
No deadlier foe than the impassioned dream
Should drive thee to him, and should hold thee near—
Near to the body, not the soul of him:
Love first my soul and then both will be dear.
II
But, Love, for me thy body was the first.
One day I wandered idly through the town,
Then entered a cathedral's silence brown
Which sudden thrilled with a strange heavenly burst
Of light and music. Lo! that traveler durst
Do nothing now but worship and fall down.
He thought to rest, as doth some tired clown
Who sinks in longed-for sleep, but there immersed
Finds restless vision on vision of beauty rare.
Moved by thy body's outer majesty
I entered in thy silent, sacred shrine;
'T was then, all suddenly and unaware,
Thou didst reveal, O, maiden Love! to me,
This beautiful, singing, holy soul of thine.
