MICHAL, what wealth of kisses do I owe, Dropt on my head when it in sleep is yours And in oblivious comfort cannot know Through what soft word or touch your passion pours! Must this new world the pattern of the old Repeat, with waste of beauty and delight, My loveliest blessings still to me untold And even by you forgotten with the night? O no, they all are caught and gathered up, Most precious and enduring, and my own, Pressed in the darkling contents of that cup Which I shall drink when all things are made known, And without breaking then my heart endures To bear the fullness of your @3I am yours!@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOLY POEMS: 3 by GEORGE BARKER OUT WHERE THE WEST BEGINS by ARTHUR CHAPMAN MARCO BOZZARIS by FITZ-GREENE HALLECK A DIRGE FOR MCPHERSON; KILLED IN FRONT OF ATLANTA by HERMAN MELVILLE THE BALLAD OF THE FOXHUNTER by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE STUDENT'S SERENADE by ANNE BRONTE |