One flame-winged brought a white-winged harp-player <br />Even where my lady and I lay all alone; <br />Saying: “Behold, this minstrel is unknown; <br />Bid him depart, for I am minstrel here: <br />Only my strains are to Love's dear ones dear.” <br />Then said I: “Through thine hautboy's rapturous tone <br />Unto my lady still this harp makes moan, <br />And still she deems the cadence deep and clear.” <br />Then said my lady: “Thou art Passion of Love, <br />And this Love's Worship: both he plights to me. <br />Thy mastering music walks the sunlit sea: <br />But where wan water trembles in the grove <br />And the wan moon is all the light thereof, <br />This harp still makes my name its voluntary.”<br /><br />Dante Gabriel Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-ix-passion-and-worship/
