Lovers may stand in one another’s sight.
Now since through fleshly glass Thy flame, O Love,
Shines clear, and nowhere else doth visibly move;
That lanthorn bright I will bow down before,
Kneeling the crystal body to adore.
SONNET
My native land is only where you are,
You are my home, my roof-tree, hearth, and fire.
I have been home-sick for you, wandering far,
But now have reached the end of my desire.