It yearns me sore, so near, so far!
My heart moans like the harbor-bar,
For coming of the morning star.
Buy Hyacinths—a goodly share!
Ascend, O soul, Love's iris-stair,
The bridegroom waiteth for thee there!
LOVE
THE blooming flowers, the galaxies of space,
Lie pictured in a sheeny drop of even;