09.08.2014, 13:55
FROM THE DUTCH OF H. S.
O ! LOVE ! my love ! thine eyes caress my eyes !
They seem to nestle in my soul ; they meet
My passionate looks with looks as pure and sweet
And tender as unwindy summer skies
Washed in warm showers ; they are the oratories
That draw me into prayer ; they light my feet
Always to thee, and so each day I greet
With answering fervour of tumultuous sighs
The deep love glories of their vestal fires ;
They hold me in the circle of their spells,
Like some enchanted gazer, caught at last
In webs a fairy princess weaves of wires
Invisible ; they are the deep love-wells
Where I may drink, nor ever faint or fast.
O ! LOVE ! my love ! thine eyes caress my eyes !
They seem to nestle in my soul ; they meet
My passionate looks with looks as pure and sweet
And tender as unwindy summer skies
Washed in warm showers ; they are the oratories
That draw me into prayer ; they light my feet
Always to thee, and so each day I greet
With answering fervour of tumultuous sighs
The deep love glories of their vestal fires ;
They hold me in the circle of their spells,
Like some enchanted gazer, caught at last
In webs a fairy princess weaves of wires
Invisible ; they are the deep love-wells
Where I may drink, nor ever faint or fast.