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;