And hush—her love like some spent splendor pours
Into it all immaculate maidenhood,
And all the heart that hesitates—adores.
"Vanquished! so vanquished!—ah, triumphant sweet!
The height of heaven—supine at thy feet!
Where love feasts crowned, and basks in such a glare
As hearts of suns burn, in thine eyes and hair,
Unutterable with raveled fires that cheat
The ardent clay of me and make me air.
"And so, rare witch, thy blood, like some lewd wine,