A love all-commanding, all-withstanding Through a year is my love; A grief darkly hiding, starkly biding Without let or remove; Of strength a sharp straining, past sustaining Wheresoever I rove, A force still extending without ending Before and around and above. Of Heaven 'tis the brightest amazement, The blackest abasement of Hell, A struggle for breath with a spectre, In nectar a choking to death; 'Tis a race with Heaven's lightning and thunder, Then Champion Feats under Moyle's water; 'Tis pursuing the cuckoo, the wooing Of Echo, the Rock's airy daughter. Till my red lips turn ashen, My light limbs grow leaden, My heart loses motion, In Death my eyes deaden, So is my love and my passion, So is my ceaseless devotion To her to whom I gave them. To her who will not have them. |