Nor all which others viewing, turn to go,

Distrusting every light that seemed to gild

With their rains), and behold my souls true face,

In perfect, purple state; since when, indeed,

Thy purity of likeness and distort

The first, and sought the forehead, and half missed,

Thy sovranty, recoiling with a blow,

(Against which years have beat thus blanchingly

Upon the event with marble. Could it mean

A still renewable fear ... O love, O troth ...

Half falling on the hair. O beyond meed !

It is that distant years which did not take

Formed of the sand, and fit to shift and break.

When we met first and loved, I did not build

When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst

Nor all which others viewing, turn to go,

I could not wear here, plainer to my sight,

Their doubt and dread, and blindly to forsake

Of all that strong 九_九_藏_书_网divineness which I know

Through that same souls distracting lethargy,

Because thou hast the power and ownst the grace

To pour out gratitude, as thou dost, good!

This mutual kiss drop down between us both

The dim and weary witness of lifes race,--

With sanctifying sweetness, did precede.

The onward path, and feared to overlean

As an unowned thing, once the lips being cold.

Nothing repels thee, . . . Dearest, teach me so

With sanctifying sweetness, did precede.

Because thou hast the power and ownst the grace

And vibrant tail, within the temple-gate.

To pour out gratitude, as thou dost, good !

Because thou hast the faith and love to see,

Thy worthiest love to a worthless counterfeit:

And strong since then, I think that God has willed

With their rains), and behold my souls true face,

As if a shipwr

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ecked Pagan, safe in port,

Thy purity of likeness and distort

The finger of this hand wherewith I write;

I have been proud and said, "My love, my own."

First time he kissed me, he but only kissed

First time he kissed me, he but only kissed

As if a shipwrecked Pagan, safe in port,

To last, a love set pendulous between

When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst

Pardon, oh, pardon, that my soul should make,

A still renewable fear . . . O love, O troth . . .

That was the chrism of love, which loves own crown,

Sorrow and sorrow? Nay, I rather thrilled,

This mutual kiss drop down between us both

Upon the event with marble. Could it mean

Nor Gods infliction, nor deaths neighbourhood,

Their doubt a九九藏书网nd dread, and blindly to forsake

Pardon, oh, pardon, that my soul should make,

Have forced my swimming brain to undergo

The patient angel waiting for a place

Than that first kiss. The second passed in height

And Love, be false! if he, to keep one oath,

That was the chrism of love, which loves own crown,

To last, a love set pendulous between

Thy sovranty, recoiling with a blow,

As an unowned thing, once the lips being cold.

Half falling on the hair. O beyond meed!

Distrusting every light that seemed to gild

Lest these enclasped hands should never hold,

Lest these enclasped hands should never hold,

Slow to world-greetings, quick with its Oh, list,

Should set a sculptured porpoise, gills a-snort

The dim and weary witness of lifes race,

In the new Heavens,--because nor sin nor woe,

Formed of the sand, and fit to shift and break.

Nor all of which makes me tired of al９9lｉb•ｎｅｔl, self-viewed,--

To look through and behind this mask of me

The fingers of this hand wherewith I write;

For thine and thee, an image only so

And vibrant tail, within the temple gate.

The onward path, and feared to overlean

It is that distant years which did not take

Because thou hast the faith and love to see,

Through that same souls distracting lethargy,

And ever since, it grew more clean and white,

Of all that strong divineness which I know

Nor Gods infliction, nor deaths neighborhood,

Have forced my swimming brain to undergo

I have been proud and said, My love, my own.

I could not wear here, plainer to my sight,

The first, and sought the forehead, and half missed,

Nor all which makes me tired of all, self-viewed,--

To look through and behind this mask of me

And strong since then, I think that God has willed

The patient angel waiting for a place

When we met first and loved, I did not build

Nothing repels thee,...Dearest, teach me so

Must lose one joy, by his lifes star foretold.

In perfect, purple state; since when, indeed,

Than that first kiss. The second passed in height

(Against which years have beat thus blanchingly

Sorrow and sorrow ? Nay, I rather thrilled,

His guardian sea-god to commemorate,

The third upon my lips was folded down

Must lose one joy, by his lifes star foretold.

And Love, be false ! if he, to keep one oath,

Should set a sculptured porpoise, gills a-snort

In the new Heavens,--because nor sin nor woe,

A finger even. And, though I have grown serene

Slow to world-greetings, quick with its "Oh, list,"

Thy worthiest love to a worthless counterfeit:

A finger even. And, though I have grown serene

His guardian sea-god to commemorate,

The third upon my lips was folded down

For thine and thee, an image only so

And ever since, it grew more clean and white,