Lo! Thou hast granted us for Thee a name, <br />But never, Lord, shall there be a name for this <br />The storm and sacrament of love’s abyss; <br />Nor shall the mind conceive nor man’s tongue frame <br />Nor Music in her farthest flight proclaim <br />The tale of that intolerable bliss <br />When breathless lips meet in the final kiss, <br />And mouth on mouth melts to incarnate flame. <br /> <br />When, lest the astounding racks of bliss destroy <br />The body with its ecstasy alive,— <br />The maddened flesh grown infinite with joy, <br />Peace sends her Lethe to the reeling brain, <br />Ere the inexorable flame revive <br />And Love that slew sound trumpets o’er the slain.<br /><br />George Sterling<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-kiss-of-consummation/
