To all the spirits of Love that wander by <br />Along his love-sown harvest-field of sleep <br />My lady lies apparent; and the deep <br />Calls to the deep; and no man sees but I. <br />The bliss so long afar, at length so nigh, <br />Rests there attained. Methinks proud Love must weep <br />When Fate's control doth from his harvest reap <br />The sacred hour for which the years did sigh. <br />First touched, the hand now warm around my neck <br />Taught memory long to mock desire: and lo! <br />Across my breast the abandoned hair doth flow, <br />Where one shorn tress long stirred the longing ache: <br />And next the heart that trembled for its sake <br />Lies the queen-heart in sovereign overthrow.<br /><br />Dante Gabriel Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-vii-supreme-surrender/
