' All that I ask,' says Love, 'is just to stand <br />And gaze, unchided, deep in thy dear eyes; <br />For in their depths lies largest Paradise. <br />Yet, if perchance one pressure of thy hand <br />Be granted me, then joy I thought complete <br />Were still more sweet.' <br />'All that I ask,' says Love, 'all that I ask, <br />Is just thy hand clasp. Could I brush thy cheek <br />As zephyrs brush a rose leaf, words are weak <br />To tell the bliss in which my soul would bask. <br />There is no language but would desecrate <br />A joy so great.' <br />'All that I ask, is just one tender touch <br />Of that soft cheek. Thy pulsing palm in mine, <br />Thy dark eyes lifted in a trust divine <br />And those curled lips that tempt me overmuch <br />Turned where I may not seize the supreme bliss <br />Of one mad kiss. <br />'All that I ask,' says Love, 'of life, of death. <br />Or of high heaven itself, is just to stand, <br />Glance melting into glance, hand twined in hand, <br />The while I drink the nectar of thy breath, <br />In one sweet kiss, but one, of all thy store, <br />I ask no more.' <br />'All that I ask '—nay, self-deceiving Love, <br />Reverse thy phrase, so thus the words may fall, <br />In place of 'all I ask,' say, 'I ask all,' <br />All that pertains to earth or soars above, <br />All that thou weft, art, will be, body, soul, <br />Love asks the whole.<br /><br />Ella Wheeler Wilcox<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/all-that-love-asks-2/
