And wilt thou have me fashion into
The love I bear thee, finding words enough,
And hold the torch out, while the winds are rough,
Between our faces, to cast light upon each?
I drop it at thy feet.
I cannot
My hand to hold my spirit so far
From myself.. me.. that I should bring thee proof,
In words of love hid in me…out of reach.
Nay, let the silence of my
Commend my woman-love to thy belief,
Seeing that I stand unwon (however wooed)And rend the garment of my life in
By a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude,
Lest one touch of this heart convey its grief.