SUPREME SURRENDER
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all the spirits of love that wander byAlong the love-sown fallowfield of sleepMy lady lies apparent; and the deepCalls to the deep; and no man sees but I.The bliss so long afar, at length so nigh,Rests there attained. Methinks proud Love must weepWhen Fate's control doth from his harvest reapThe sacred hour for which the years did sigh. First touched, the hand now warm around my neckTaught memory long to mock desire: and lo!Across my breast the abandoned hair doth flow,Where one shorn tress long stirred the longing ache:And next the heart that trembled for its sakeLies the queen-heart in sovereign overthrow.
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