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

The fingers of this hand wherewith I write;

Upon the event with marble. Could it mean

This mutual kiss drop down between us both

To look through and behind this mask of me

His guardian sea-god to commemorate,

The onward path, and feared to overlean

For thine and thee, an image only so

Nor all which others viewing, turn to go,

Lest these enclasped hands should never hold,

Than that first kiss. The second pas9９ｌib.ｎetsed in height

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

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

The third upon my lips was folded down

Half falling on the hair. O beyond meed !

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

And vibrant tail, within the temple-gate.

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

It is that distant years which did not take

Pardon, oh, pardon, that９9liｂ.neｔ my soul should make,

When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst

And strong since then, I think that God has willed

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

Because thou hast the power and ownst the grace

Thy sovranty, recoiling with a blow,

Thy purity of likeness and distort

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

Sorrow and sohｔtｐ://wｗw•99ｌｉb.ｎｅｔrrow ? Nay, I rather thrilled,

Their doubt and dread, and blindly to forsake

With sanctifying sweetness, did precede.

Must lose one joy, by his lifes star foretold.

Through that same souls distracting lethargy,

As if a shipwrecked Pagan, safe in port,

Distrusting every light that seemed to gild

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

Nor Gods infliction, nor deaths neighborhood,

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

The patient angel waitihtｔｐ://www.99ｌib.neｔng for a place

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

(Against which years have beat thus blanchingly

I could not wear here, plainer to my sight,

To last, a love set pendulous between

Of all that strong divineness which I know

First time he kissed me, he but only kissed

A finger even. And, though I have grown serene

And ever since, it grew more clean and white,

The dim and weary witness of lifes race,--

Thy worthiest love to a 九-九-藏-书-网worthless counterfeit:

As an unowned thing, once the lips being cold.

When we met first and loved, I did not build

Have forced my swimming brain to undergo

Should set a sculptured porpoise, gills a-snort

To pour out gratitude, as thou dost, good !

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

In perfect, purple state; since when, indeed,

Because thou hast the faith and love to see,