In my dream, I flew up to a high place,
and a voice came from within me with the strength of the heavens:
“Be good to one another,” it cried.
And you all called to me: “Be good to one another.”
“Do good works,” I cried.
“Do good works!” You called in return.
“And above all, love one another,” I cried.
“Love one another!” you called.
“Love one another,” I whispered as my heart glowed.
O would you were mine!
I would tell you I love you a thousand small ways,
A soft, gentle smile, a lingering glance,
A sudden caught breath on sensing your gaze,
The pulse at my throat now betraying heart’s dance.
A touch on your cheek, a breath in your ear,
Carrying promises fiery and sweet,
Or gaze downcast when passing you near,
A frisson of excitement when eyes at last meet.
Kindling the night-hearth and sharing its fire,
Passion for passion, desire for desire,
Or tender meets tender, a long-burning flame,
Caress for caress as love whispers your name.
A kiss, a caress, a glance, a long look,
A love open wide, no resistance it brook,
A sigh, a shiver, a sweet evening song,
Safekeeping your heart throughout all the years long.
O were you mine!
Is this what I feel?
Love as madness?
When dreams all peace steal,
and torment is gladness?
I move through day,
phantom breath on my skin,
dark eyes meeting mine,
guarded heart in hand,
in outflung realm where ends one heart and another begin,
or in undiscovered country on God’s sacred land
where soul must meet soul, mingle, become one,
the winds of heaven for song and bless’d river run.
Then open the gates,
let loose the stream,
let madness take hold,
let dreamer dream,
for never have hands held so great a treasure
as the heart of beloved and Beloved in one time,
learning true joy,
distressing false pleasure,
knowing at last the truth in full measure:
Love is madness, madness is love
My heart is yours, and love at last is mine.
In youth doth love the haven of peace elude,
O’erbearing its object with wanton, selfish cry,
Preferring tears for drink, despair for food,
Reveling in wretched fearful sigh.
Time doth pass, becomes now love the haven,
of peace and passion blending dreams the heart,
that monstrous fancy slowly tamed and graven
with modest wish to daily care impart.
When I with saddened eyes saw years march on,
Wronged by love, so wronging love in turn,
removed from love, the haven of peace I won,
asylum did seek, and from compassion turn.
But shrewdly did poor heart pretend to cease,
For now doth wake and love the haven of peace.