I long to kiss thy lotus-blossomed mouth,
An’ danse with thee forever, I wouldst fain;
Indeed, for thy tender love, I now drouth,
To meet thy kisses in the pouring rain.
Thy beauty hath bewitch’d me, an’ I stand fast;
From mine flesh, aught mine strength now doth drain;
At thy beauteous feet, mine love I cast!
Hold me naught captive in thy lofty towers,
For without thee, mine soul into death wilt pass—
Let me sow in thy hair, golden flowers;
An’ I cry out to thee, mine love, oh thou!
‘soever cometh thee at thy lonesome hours;
Without thee in mine life, I wouldst now drown,
So humbly at thy tender feet, I bow.
By Andrew London