Chapter X

With Thy sweet Soul, this Soul of mine—
Hath mixed as Water doth with Wine.
Who can the Wine and Water part,
Or me and Thee when we combine?
Thou art become my greater Self;
Small Bounds no more can me confine.
Thou hast my Being taken on,
And shall not I now take on Thine?
Me Thou for ever hast affirmed,
That I may ever know Thee mine.
Thy Love has pierced me through and through,
Its Thrill with Bone and Nerve entwine.
I rest a Flute laid on Thy Lips;
A Lute I on Thy Breast recline.
Breathe deep in me that I may sigh;
Yet strike my Strings, and Tears shall shine.
So sweet my Tears, my Sighs so sweet,
I to the World its Joys resign.
Thou restest in my inmost Soul
Whose depths the mirror'd Heaven define.
O Pearl in my Mussel Shell:
O Diamond in my darkest Mine!
My Honey is in Thee dissolved;
O Milk of Life, so mild, so fine!
Our Sweetnesses all blent in Thee,
Give infant Lips their Smiles benign.
Thou crushest me to Drops of Rose;
Nor 'neath the Press do I repine.
In Thy sweet Pain is Pain forgot;
For I, Thy Rose, had this design.
Thou bad'st me blossom on Thy Robe,
And mad'st me for all eyes Thy Sign.
And when Thou pour'st me on the World,
It blows in Beauty, all Divine.

Identity