Is this your body that my fingers touch? And are these lips but lips, that can reveal Splendor of marching skies -- so much More than the flesh can feel? Under the savage heat and rude desire A sudden glory breaks, half-felt, half-seen; I rise upon a sea of singing fire That lifts and sweeps me clean. The rumble and the clash of war have gone Into my blood that shouts its battle-cry! Even your beauty keeps me struggling on Toward that for which men die. You hold me closely, yet you set me free For unknown battles with a great release; You are my red desire of victory And my white dream of peace. |