LXV

WHENEVER thou dost let a passing thought Inhabit the domain of my desire, I wonder just how thou mayst then inquire Within thy heart, as yet untouched though sought, How great love’s sacrifice, to have been brought So strangely to thy life, and set on fire The soul of one who doth thine own admire, Although thou givest in return but nought. Were it but given to thine eye to see The splendor of love’s passion in its prime, Burning upon the rock of thine own being, Nature might then increase her power in thee, And thou might’st find a summit here to climb, That would eclipse all objects thou art seeing.