To all the spirits of Love that wander by
Along his love-sown harvest-field of sleep
My lady lies apparent; and the deep
Calls to the deep; and no man sees but I.
The bliss so long afar, at length so nigh,
Rests there attained. Methinks proud Love must weep
When Fate's control doth from his harvest reap
The sacred hour for which the years did sigh.
First touched, the hand now warm around my neck
Taught memory long to mock desire: and lo!
Across my breast the abandoned hair doth flow,
Where one shorn tress long stirred the longing ache:
And next the heart that trembled for its sake
Lies the queen-heart in sovereign overthrow.
More verses by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
- Sonnet Lix: Love's Last Gift
- Sonnet Xxiv: Pride Of Youth
- Sonnet Liii: Without Her
- Sonnet Ix: Passion And Worship
- Sunset Wings