Accuse me not, beseech thee, that I wear

As salt as mine, and hear the sighing yearsRe-sighing on my lips renunciativeThrough those infrequent smiles which fail to liveFor all thy adjurations ? O my fears,That this can scarce be right ! We are not peers,So to be lovers; and I own, and grieve,That givers of such gifts as mine are, mustBe counted with…

And found them gentle mates, nor thought to knowA sweeter music than they played to me.But soon their trailing purple was not freeOf this world’s dust, their lutes did silent grow,And I myself grew faint and blind belowTheir vanishing eyes. Then thou didst come–to be,Belovèd, what they seemed. Their shining fronts,Their songs, their splendors (better,…

And hold the torch out, while the winds are rough,Between our faces, to cast light on each ?–I drop it at thy feet. I cannot teachMy hand to hold my spirit so far offFrom myself–me–that I should bring thee proofIn words, of love hid in me out of reach.Nay, let the silence of my womanhoodCommend…

In the noon-sun, with souls that tremble throughTheir happy eyelids from an unaverredYet prodigal inward joy. Behold, I erredIn that last doubt ! and yet I cannot rueThe sin most, but the occasion–that we twoShould for a moment stand unministeredBy a mutual presence. Ah, keep near and close,Thou dovelike help ! and, when my fears…

I sit beneath thy looks, as children doIn the noon-sun, with souls that tremble throughTheir happy eyelids from an unaverredYet prodigal inward joy. Behold, I erredIn that last doubt! and yet I cannot rueThe sin most, but the occasion—that we twoShould for a moment stand unministeredBy a mutual presence. Ah, keep near and close,Thou dovelike…

Alone upon the threshold of my doorOf individual life, I shall commandThe uses of my soul, nor lift my handSerenely in the sunshine as before,Without the sense of that which I forbore–Thy touch upon the palm. The widest landDoom takes to part us, leaves thy heart in mineWith pulses that beat double. What I doAnd…

They are leaning their young heads against their mothers—And that cannot stop their tears.The young lambs are bleating in the meadows;The young birds are chirping in the nest;The young fawns are playing with the shadows;The young flowers are blowing toward the west—But the young, young children, O my brothers,They are weeping bitterly!—They are weeping in…

Let temple burn, or flax; an equal lightLeaps in the flame from cedar-plank or weed:And love is fire. And when I say at needI love thee . . . mark ! . . . I love thee–in thy sightI stand transfigured, glorified aright,With conscience of the new rays that proceedOut of my face toward thine….

Of its own glory—like the Princess weirdWho, combating the Genius, scorched and seared,Uttered with burning breath, ‘Ho! victory!’And sank adown, an heap of ashes pale;So runs the Arab tale.The sky above us showedAn universal and unmoving cloud,On which, the cliffs permitted us to seeOnly the outline of their majesty,As master-minds, when gazed at by the…

The sun, a little cloud can pallWith darkness yonder?The cloud, a little wind can moveWhere’er it listeth?The wind, a little leaf above,Though sere, resisteth?What time that yellow leaf was green,My days were gladder;But now, whatever Spring may mean,I must grow sadder.Ah me! a leaf with sighs can wringMy lips asunder –Then is mine heart the…

I have heard love talked in my early youth,And since, not so long back but that the flowersThen gathered, smell still. Mussulmans and GiaoursThrow kerchiefs at a smile, and have no ruthFor any weeping. Polypheme’s white toothSlips on the nut if, after frequent showers,The shell is over-smooth,–and not so muchWill turn the thing called love,…

In this close hand of Love, now soft and warm,And let us hear no sound of human strifeAfter the click of the shutting. Life to life –I lean upon thee, Dear, without alarm,And feel as safe as guarded by a charmAgainst the stab of worldlings, who if rifeAre weak to injure. Very whitely stillThe lilies…

Where waving woods and waters wildDo hymn an autumn sound.The summer sun is faint on them —The summer flowers depart —Sit still — as all transform’d to stone,Except your musing heart.How there you sat in summer-time,May yet be in your mind;And how you heard the green woods singBeneath the freshening wind.Though the same wind now…

Move still, oh, still, beside me, as they stoleBetwixt me and the dreadful outer brinkOf obvious death, where I, who thought to sink,Was caught up into love, and taught the wholeOf life in a new rhythm. The cup of doleGod gave for baptism, I am fain to drink,And praise its sweetness, Sweet, with thee anear.The…

Then break against the rock, and show behindThe lowland valleys floating up to crowdThe sense with beauty. He with forehead bowedAnd humble-lidded eyes, as one inclinedBefore the sovran thought of his own mind,And very meek with inspirations proud,Takes here his rightful place as poet-priestBy the high altar, singing prayer and prayerTo the higher Heavens. A…

And make the daylight still a happy thing,And tender voices, to make soft the wind:But if it were not so—if I could findNo love in all this world for comforting,Nor any path but hollowly did ringWhere ‘dust to dust’ the love from life disjoin’d;And if, before those sepulchres unmovingI stood alone (as some forsaken lambGoes…

What time I sat alone here in the snowAnd saw no footprint, heard the silence sinkNo moment at thy voice, but, link by link,Went counting all my chains as if that soThey never could fall off at any blowStruck by thy possible hand,- why, thus I drinkOf life’s great cup of wonder! Wonderful,Never to feel…

Of all that strong divineness which I knowFor thine and thee, an image only soFormed of the sand, and fit to shift and break.It is that distant years which did not takeThy sovranty, recoiling with a blow,Have forced my swimming brain to undergoTheir doubt and dread, and blindly to forsakeThy purity of likeness and distortThy…