Take me, hold me for ever. Tear off all other chains,
The tatters of life that were mine, let them be eaten by fire
And my very flesh be molten, till it lose at last the stains
Of weariness, of hunger, of the long desire.
All that I loved is hidden in you. Presently I shall awake
And draw the blossomed boughs downwards, in the thickets behind your eyes;
And the swans shall cry me welcome from the deep-set tourmaline lake,
But the voices of men shall be silent, and trouble not Paradise.
And the sins that were foe to Beauty, these too are known in your heart;
I shall awaken, indeed, and my sword be bright for that fray —
But now for a space of dreaming, the cool boughs draw me apart
And very still is the dusk; for Wisdom hath little to say.