Poems (Tennyson, 1833)/O Love, Love, Love!
I.O Love, Love, Love! oh, withering might!O sun, that at thy noonday heightShudderest, when I strain my sight,Throbbing thro' all thy heat and light! Lo! falling from my constant mind, Lo! parched and withered, deaf and blind, I whirl like leaves in roaring wind.
II.Last night, when some one spoke his name,From my swift blood, that went and came,A thousand little shafts of flameWere shivered in my narrow frame. O Love, O fire! once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul thro' My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.
III.Before he mounts the hill, I knowHe cometh quickly: from belowSweet gales, as from deep gardens, blowBefore him, striking on my brow. In my dry brain my spirit soon, Downdeepening from swoon to swoon, Faints like a dazzled morning moon.
IV.The wind sounds like a silver wire,And from beyond the noon a fireIs poured upon the hills, and nigherThe skies stoop down in their desire; And, isled in sudden seas of light, My heart, pierced thro' with fierce delight, Bursts into blossom in his sight.
V.My whole soul waiting silently,All naked in a sultry sky,Droops blinded with his shining eye,I will possess him or will die. I will grow round him in his place, Grow—live—die looking on his face, Die, dying clasped in his embrace.