Page:An epic of women and other poems (IA epicofwomenother00osha).pdf/133

"—O, Love, invisible, eternal God,
In whose delicious ways all men have trod,
  This day Thou truly hast
My heart: thy inspiration fills my tongue
With great angelic madness; I have sung
Set words that in my bosom thou hast cast—
  Thine am I to the last!

"My feet are like two liquid flames that leap
For joy at thee; I feel thy spirit sweep—
  Yea, like a southern wind—
Through all the enchanted fibres of my soul;
I am a harp o'er which thy vast breaths roll,
And one day thou shalt break me: none shall find
  A wreck of me behind.

"And now all palpitating, O I pray
Thy utmost passion while I cry—away
  With all Love's enemies!
A man—borne up between the closing wings
Of two eternities of unknown things,
May catch this seraph charmer as he flies,
  And hold him till he dies;