IX.

Nor only this, though this Might seal a life of bliss, But something more divine, For which I once did pine, The crown of worlds above, The heart of every heart, the Soul of Being--Love! I bow obedient to my Lady's sway, The sovereignty that won my soul of yore, And linger in her presence night and day, And feel a heaven around her evermore; I sit beside her couch in chambers lone, And soft unbraid, and lay her locks apart, And take her taper fingers in my own, And press them to my lips with leaps of heart; Sometimes I kneel to her with cups of wine, With pleading eyes, beseeching her to taste, With long-delaying lips, the draught divine; And when she sips thereof, I clasp her waist, And kiss her mouth, and shake her hanging curls, And in her coy despite unloose her zone of pearls! I live for Love, for Love alone, and who Dare chide me for it? who dare call it folly? It is a holy thing, if aught is holy, And true indeed, if Truth herself is true: Earth cleaves to earth, its sensuous life is dear, Mortals should love mortality while here, And seize the glowing hours before they fly: Bright eyes should answer eyes, warm lips should meet, And hearts enlocked to kindred hearts should beat, And every soul that lives, in love should live and die!