Ecstasy
Cover mine eyes, O my Love!
Mine eyes that are weary of bliss
As of light that is poignant and strong
O silence my lips with a kiss,
My lips that are weary of song!
Shelter my soul, O my love!
My soul is bent low with the pain
And the burden of love, like the grace
Of a flower that is smitten with rain:
O shelter my soul from thy face!
(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)Similar poems:
- Street Cries WHEN dawn’s first cymbals beat upon the sky, Rousing the world to labour’s various cry, To tend the flock, to […]...
- Ode to H. H. The Nizam Of Hyderabad DEIGN, Prince, my tribute to receive, This lyric offering to your name, Who round your jewelled scepter bind The lilies […]...
- LEILI THE serpents are asleep among the poppies, The fireflies light the soundless panther’s way To tangled paths where shy gazelles […]...
- Nightfall In The City Of Hyderabad SEE how the speckled sky burns like a pigeon’s throat, Jewelled with embers of opal and peridote. See the white […]...
- Song Of A Dream ONCE in the dream of a night I stood Lone in the light of a magical wood, Soul-deep in visions […]...
- Palanquin Bearers Lightly, O lightly we bear her along, She sways like a flower in the wind of our song; She skims […]...
- Indian Dancer EYES ravished with rapture, celestially panting, what passionate bosoms aflaming with fire Drink deep of the hush of the hyacinth […]...
- Indian Love Song She LIKE a serpent to the calling voice of flutes, Glides my heart into thy fingers, O my Love! Where […]...
- Village Song HONEY, child, honey, child, whither are you going? Would you cast your jewels all to the breezes blowing? Would you […]...
- In The Forest HERE, O my heart, let us burn the dear dreams that are dead, Here in this wood let us fashion […]...
- Suttee LAMP of my life, the lips of Death Hath blown thee out with their sudden breath; Naught shall revive thy […]...
- Transcience Nay, do not grieve tho’ life be full of sadness, Dawn will not veil her spleandor for your grief, Nor […]...
- Harvest Hymn Mens Voices: LORD of the lotus, lord of the harvest, Bright and munificent lord of the morn! Thine is the […]...
- To My Children Jaya Surya GOLDEN sun of victory, born In my life’s unclouded morn, In my lambent sky of love, May your […]...
- My Dead Dream HAVE YOU found me, at last, O my Dream? Seven eons ago You died and I buried you deep under […]...
- The Poet’s Love-Song In noon-tide hours, O Love, secure and strong, I need thee not; mad dreams are mine to bind The world […]...
- The Royal Tombs Of Golconda I MUSE among these silent fanes Whose spacious darkness guards your dust; Around me sleep the hoary plains That hold […]...
- In Salutation to the Eternal Peace Men say the world is full of fear and hate, And all life’s ripening harvest-fields await The restless sickle of […]...
- Autumn Song Like a joy on the heart of a sorrow, The sunset hangs on a cloud; A golden storm of glittering […]...
- Corn Grinders O little mouse, why dost thou cry While merry stars laugh in the sky? Alas! alas! my lord is dead! […]...
- THE INDIAN GIPSY IN tattered robes that hoard a glittering trace Of bygone colours, broidered to the knee, Behold her, daughter of a […]...
- To India O YOUNG through all thy immemorial years! Rise, Mother, rise, regenerate from thy gloom, And, like a bride high-mated with […]...
- To My Fairy Fancies NAY, no longer I may hold you, In my spirit’s soft caresses, Nor like lotus-leaves enfold you In the tangles […]...
- Alabaster LIKE this alabaster box whose art Is frail as a cassia-flower, is my heart, Carven with delicate dreams and wrought […]...
- Past and Future The new hath come and now the old retires: And so the past becomes a mountain-cell, Where lone, apart, old […]...
- A Love Song from the North Tell me no more of thy love, papeeha, Wouldst thou recall to my heart, papeeha, Dreams of delight that are […]...
- Wandering Singers WHERE the voice of the wind calls our wandering feet, Through echoing forest and echoing street, With lutes in our […]...
- Life CHILDREN, ye have not lived, to you it seems Life is a lovely stalactite of dreams, Or carnival of careless […]...
- In Praise Of Henna A KOKILA called from a henna-spray: Lira! liree! Lira! liree! Hasten, maidens, hasten away To gather the leaves of the […]...
- Indian Weavers WEAVERS, weaving at break of day, Why do you weave a garment so gay? . . . Blue as the […]...