The Wonders of Love

What sleep is this that draws the breath
from lungs as if ‘twere unto death?
What rise is this that pricks the eyes
to Sunlight, piercing infernal skies?
What walk is this that levels hearts
to proper affections in celestial arts?
What eyes are these that meet my gaze,
rending the veil of ethereal haze?
What hand is this that peruses my skin,
haunting my heart with the forgiveness of sin?
What lip that whispers a mountainous calm—
cures earthly wounds with a heavenly balm?
What life is mine in you, my dear?
’Tis this—the end of worldly fear!
For Love has granted a respite
from that final and carnal rest,
and I sup on ageless bread and wine
—your essence, my soul to arrest.
What nectar of heaven!—Ambrosia of life!
Verily, heartily, unto death of strife!
What surplus of seasons!—What Reason sublime!
The cosmos within you—the scope of all time!
What breadth of Elysian harmonies
what coaxes my sighing pleas—
to be naught else, love, but unto thee,
and to Love be ever and free.