Sometimes she is a child within mine arms, <br /> Cowering beneath dark wings that love must chase,-- <br /> With still tears showering and averted face, <br /> Inexplicably fill'd with faint alarms: <br /> And oft from mine own spirit's hurtling harms <br /> I crave the refuge of her deep embrace,-- <br /> Against all ills the fortified strong place <br /> And sweet reserve of sovereign counter-charms. <br /> <br /> And Love, our light at night and shade at noon, <br /> Lulls us to rest with songs, and turns away <br /> All shafts of shelterless tumultuous day. <br /> Like the moon's growth, his face gleams through his tune; <br /> And as soft waters warble to the moon, <br /> Our answering spirits chime one roundelay.<br /><br />Dante Gabriel Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/xxix-heart-s-heaven/
