O LOVE, Love, Love! O withering might! <br />O sun, that from thy noonday height <br />Shudderest when I strain my sight, <br />Throbbing thro' all thy heat and light, <br /> Lo, falling from my constant mind, <br /> Lo, parch'd and wither'd, deaf and blind, <br /> I whirl like leaves in roaring wind. <br /> <br />Last night I wasted hateful hours <br />Below the city's eastern towers: <br />I thirsted for the brooks, the showers: <br />I roll'd among the tender flowers: <br /> I crush'd them on my breast, my mouth; <br /> I look'd athwart the burning drouth <br /> Of that long desert to the south. <br /> <br />Last night, when some one spoke his name, <br />From my swift blood that went and came <br />A thousand little shafts of flame <br />Were shiver'd in my narrow frame. <br /> O Love, O fire! once he drew <br /> With one long kiss my whole soul thro' <br /> My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew. <br /> <br />Before he mounts the hill, I know <br />He cometh quickly: from below <br />Sweet gales, as from deep gardens, blow <br />Before him, striking on my brow. <br /> In my dry brain my spirit soon, <br /> Down-deepening from swoon to swoon, <br /> Faints like a daled morning moon. <br /> <br />The wind sounds like a silver wire, <br />And from beyond the noon a fire <br />Is pour'd upon the hills, and nigher <br />The skies stoop down in their desire; <br /> And, isled in sudden seas of light, <br /> My heart, pierced thro' with fierce delight, <br /> Bursts into blossom in his sight. <br /> <br />My whole soul waiting silently, <br />All naked in a sultry sky, <br />Droops blinded with his shining eye: <br />I will possess him or will die. <br /> I will grow round him in his place, <br /> Grow, live, die looking on his face, <br /> Die, dying clasp'd in his embrace.<br /><br />Alfred Lord Tennyson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fatima-2/
