SHE loves me! From her own bliss-breathing lips <br /> The live confession came, like rich perfume <br /> From crimson petals bursting into bloom! <br />And still my heart at the remembrance skips <br />Like a young lion, and my tongue too trips <br /> As drunk with joy! while every object seen <br /> In life’s diurnal round wears in its mien <br />A clear assurance that no doubts eclipse. <br />And if the common things of nature now <br /> Are like old faces flushed with new delight, <br />Much more the consciousness of that rich vow <br /> Deepens the beauteous, and refines the bright, <br /> While throned I seem on love’s divinest height <br />’Mid all the glories glowing round its brow. <br /> <br /><br /><br />Charles Harpur<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-27/
