O LOVE, Love, Love! O withering might! 
O sun, that from thy noonday height 
Shudderest when I strain my sight, 
Throbbing thro' all thy heat and light, 
 Lo, falling from my constant mind, 
 Lo, parch'd and wither'd, deaf and blind, 
 I whirl like leaves in roaring wind. 

Last night I wasted hateful hours 
Below the city's eastern towers: 
I thirsted for the brooks, the showers: 
I roll'd among the tender flowers: 
 I crush'd them on my breast, my mouth; 
 I look'd athwart the burning drouth 
 Of that long desert to the south. 

Last night, when some one spoke his name, 
From my swift blood that went and came 
A thousand little shafts of flame 
Were shiver'd in my narrow frame. 
 O Love, O fire! once he drew 
 With one long kiss my whole soul thro' 
 My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew. 

Before he mounts the hill, I know 
He cometh quickly: from below 
Sweet gales, as from deep gardens, blow 
Before him, striking on my brow. 
 In my dry brain my spirit soon, 
 Down-deepening from swoon to swoon, 
 Faints like a daled morning moon. 

The wind sounds like a silver wire, 
And from beyond the noon a fire 
Is pour'd upon the hills, and nigher 
The skies stoop down in their desire; 
 And, isled in sudden seas of light, 
 My heart, pierced thro' with fierce delight, 
 Bursts into blossom in his sight. 

My whole soul waiting silently, 
All naked in a sultry sky, 
Droops blinded with his shining eye: 
I will possess him or will die. 
 I will grow round him in his place, 
 Grow, live, die looking on his face, 
 Die, dying clasp'd in his embrace.