O thou who at Love's hour ecstatically <br />Unto my heart dost evermore present, <br />Clothed with his fire, thy heart his testament; <br />Whom I have neared and felt thy breath to be <br />The inmost incense of his sanctuary; <br />Who without speech hast owned him, and, intent <br />Upon his will, thy life with mine hast blent, <br />And murmured, “I am thine, thou'rt one with me!” <br />O what from thee the grace, to me the prize, <br />And what to Love the glory,—when the whole <br />Of the deep stair thou tread'st to the dim shoal <br />And weary water of the place of sighs, <br />And there dost work deliverance, as thine eyes <br />Draw up my prisoned spirit to thy soul!<br /><br />Dante Gabriel Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-iii-love-s-testament/
