I close mine eyes–tight, to thee reprise–
Where vision’s current, swift; thy vision swept…
Away to take–fearing so to wake–
And quell thy current’s vision, tender slept:
For Love, I chance–came to thee, thy dance–
To beauty’s gracing thrill, my thrill to weep.
Thou leapt to fall–held me fast, thy thrall–
So lovely flight to last my thrilling sleep.
Too sweet thou shone–beguile unbeknown–
So dreamt I, never wake, thou wouldst mee tempt;
For sweet thou shine–gaspingly divine–
As moved me all to dream wherein I dreamt.
For, Love, I die… than–to vision’s eye–
Unlid thy current’s dream; my thrill, condemnt.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
So achingly beautiful, my love.
The entire sequence is absolutely bewitching.
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I love thee so; and wish so to have seen thy dancing, that so I have this gladly dreamt.
And, of course, III and IV are two more for Gene.