648
Promise This-When You be Dying-
Some shall summon Me-
Mine belong Your latest Sighing-
Mine-to Belt Your Eye-
Not with Coins-though they be Minted
From an Emperor’s Hand-
Be my lips-the only Buckle
Your low Eyes-demand-
Mine to stay-when all have wandered-
To devise once more
If the Life be too surrendered-
Life of Mine-restore-
Poured like this-My Whole Libation-
Just that You should see
Bliss of Death-Life’s Bliss extol thro’
Imitating You-
Mine-to guard Your Narrow Precinct-
To seduce the Sun
Longest on Your South, to linger,
Largest Dews of Morn
To demand, in Your low favor
Lest the Jealous Grass
Greener lean-Or fonder cluster
Round some other face-
Mine to supplicate Madonna-
If Madonna be
Could behold so far a Creature-
Christ-omitted-Me-
Just to follow Your dear future-
Ne’er so far behind-
For My Heaven-
Had I not been
Most enough-denied?
