Hid in Love’s secret lair;
Or mantle down thy shoulder as I lay
This peach-soft bloom of loveliness on thine
And Love’s low message say.
Then come to me; yea, let me be to thee
Love’s veriest scope of all; in these soft eyes
Spell thine Eternity.
Ah, wherefore hesitant hang? These plenteous halls
Hunger for thee, as I, with full surmise:
Lords be we all, not thralls!”