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 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, hear me now, my
sweetest love, that thou shouldst know
with nary a doubt:
Once I shall have, to
thine arms, returnèd, thou shalt
forever be my
perfect wine, most sweet;
and thou shalt be the crystal
Wherewith I shall drink.
As Baudelaire, my
father, my twin, my dearest
poet knew this drink
was fine; so shall I
proclaim: My sweetest love, as
my servant, as my
devoted, as my
slave; bringest thou me of the
sweetest Xerex grape
and I shall become
returnèd to that which thou
most admirest.
Remember thou, my
sweetest Love, that many forms
are yielded up by
the fickle grape: The
subjective grape might sometimes
yield up poison; but
it may also yield
up medicine that calmeth
and healeth thy Soul.
If this elixir
is the balm that, so gentle
and quiet, wouldst calm
my mind and my heart
nay, even my very soul,
my sweet love, for thee.
So gently shalt it
ease thy pain, as though a rain,
so soft, hath fallen.
This, of pure flavour,
shall not offer thee regret
and shall give but none
to thine heart; so warm
yet daunting as an angel’s.
Forget not, my love,
this cruel earth also
playeth host to elements
which may heal even–
in right proportions–
the loneliness, and longing,
we two have suffered.
Oh, my sweetest love,
share with me this sweet Xerex,
this, which I proclaim
Return’th me to thee.
Oh, my sweetest love, quiet
my restless mind with
the still, sweet, grape, which
is born of they who loveth–
they who conquereth.
David Emeron: Sonnets 