…left me the most beautiful thing on my Xerex sequence. I really thought it the fitting and most perfect end and answer to the thing. So beautiful. So now the sequence has seven sonnets. It sounds to me together like wedding bells and wedding vows and honeymoons and love everlasting.
And … what am I to do now with the order of things. Should I move the whole Xerex sequence–all seven brothers–up to the front to be with its sister? Something along those lines will have to be done, I think.
…will you find the first version as it had been penned originally so many decades ago. The dotted lines have been added to indicate whence the sonnets come:
O, my sweetest love,
Share thou with me
The sweet XerexWhich I do proclaim
As the nectar which
Returneth me toThee, my sweetest love.
Quiet my restless mind
With the still, sweetGrape which is the
Blood of lovers and
Of conquerers.
—————————
Such is the stuff
That would quiet my
Mind and my heartFor thee, and ease
Thy pain easily
With a pure flavor,And with little regret
From thyne Angels’ heart.
Remember thou, my loveThat even in this
Cruel
Earth there artThose elements which
Heal in their right
Proportions.
———————
Remember thou, my sweetest
Love, that many
Forms Are yieldedUp by the Fickle
Grape: The subjective
Grape yieldsUp poison and
Medicine for the
Soul.
———————–
As Baudelaire, my
Father, my twin,
My dearestPoet knew this drink was
Fine; so shall I
Proclaim: My sweetestLove, As my
Devoted, As my
Servant, As mySlave; bring thou
Me of the sweetest Xerex
Grape and IShall become returned
To that which
Thou most admireth.
————————–
But, that thou shouldst
Know: Once I have To
thine arms return’dThou shalt be my
Wine and my
crystal.
————————–
Thou shalt be
Mine Angel–superior
To all the grape isAble to be.
I shall thenceforth
Drink of thee,My love and I
Should never again want
For wine.
Much has in me been yielded up by that fine grape so many long years ago.
In peace, my love, forever do I goe,
That blessed nectar I adored to seek,
That gave thee rest and ease in its mystique
That long ago hath poured and I bestow.
Take thou, my love, these tears that overflow
To quench thy soul; restored, do they forespeak
To thee; I shed them gladly, take my cheek
To drink–so blush, as though with wine aglow.
But soft, my sweet, and drink thou ever deep;
Breathe now the vapours of my soul–and heart:
Read thou its sonnets, and thou wilt mee know.
But peaceful, shall I lay thee down to sleep,
Bequeathing thee, when we awake, such art
And dance that from thy hearth shall never goe.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
In peace, I do go
That blessed nectar to seek
May it give you ease
My love, take these tears
To quench the thirst of your soul
I shed them in joy
But soft, and drink now
Breathe the vapours and know me
Read my heart’s message
In peace I sleep now
With joy I will awaken
I dance now at home
Remember thou, that shalt thou ‘ever be,
For all of time, mine angel, and my sweet
Respite, that cup for which my heart shall beat,
Superior in infinite degree
To all the finest grape, shall I decree,
May e’er become. And so shall I, replete,
Then worship from thine altar, at thy feet,
And pray that I shall ‘ever drink of thee.
So grant thou me, my sweetest love, this prayer,
And thenceforth shall I worship at thy shrine,
And never for thy succour shall despair
Within that safety, as our hearts entwine.
I’ll thenceforth drink of thee and then declare
That never shall, again, I want for wine.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Remember, thou shalt
forever be Mine Angel–
one superior
to all the grape is
able to be. And I shall
ever drink of thee,
sweetest, sweetest love;
and thenceforth I should never
again want for wine.
But here, my sweetest love, and now, I pray
That shouldst thou know, as sure as once thou knew,
That shouldst thou neither worry, nor construe
Of me, nor any kind of doubt, display,
That shan’t I, once I have returned, convey,
Though lost, as found, or never I withdrew
From out the safety of thine arms. I do
Believe that thou shalt, ‘ever charmed this way,
Remain my fragrant, soul refreshing, wine,
Most perfect, thou, and infinitely sweet;
And shalt thou be the crystal–and I think,
A vessel that, so finished and complete,
That Holiest of Holies, made divine,
Thy beauty and thy grace–Wherewith I drink.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
David Emeron: Sonnets 