Chapter 74 Sonnet XXI-XXV

Say over again, and yet once over again, That thou dost love me. Though the word repeated Should seem a cuckoo-song, as thou dost treat it, Remember, never to the hill or plain, Valley and wood, without her cuckoo-strain Comes the fresh Spring in all her green completed. Beloved, I, amid the darkness greeted By a doubtful spirit-voice, in that doubts pain Cry, Speak once more--thou lovest ! Who can fear Too many stars, though each in heaven shall roll, Too many flowers, though each shall crown the year? Say thou dost love me, love me, love me--toll The silver iterance!--only minding, Dear,

To love me also in silence with thy soul. Say over again, and yet once over again, That thou dost love me. Though the word repeated Should seem "a cuckoo-song," as thou dost treat it, Remember, never to the hill or plain, Valley and wood, without her cuckoo-strain Comes the fresh Spring in all her green completed. Beloved, I, amid the darkness greeted By a doubtful spirit-voice, in that doubts pain Cry, <i>Speak once more--thou lovest!</i> Who can fear Too many stars, though each in heaven shall roll, Too many flowers, though each shall crown the year?

Say thou dost love me, love me, love me--toll The silver iterance!--only minding, Dear, To love me also in silence with thy soul. When our two souls stand up erect and strong, Face to face, silent, drawing night and nighter, Until the lengthening wings break into fire At either curved point,--what bitter wrong Can the earth do to us, that we should not long Be here contented? Think. In mounting higher, The angels would press on us and aspire To drop some golden orb of perfect song Into our deep, dear silence. Let us stay Rather on earth, Beloved,--where the unfit Contrarious moods of men recoil away

And isolate pure spirits, and permit A place to stand and love in for a day, With darkness and the death-hour rounding it. When our two souls stand up erect and strong, Face to face, silent, drawing night and nighter, Until the lengthening wings break into fire At either curved point,--what bitter wrong Can the earth do to us, that we should not long Be here contented? Think. In mounting higher, The angels would press on us and aspire To drop some golden orb of perfect song Into our deep, dear silence. Let us stay Rather on earth, Beloved,--where the unfit Contrarious moods of men recoil away

And isolate pure spirits, and permit A place to stand and love in for a day, With darkness and the death-hour rounding it. Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead, Wouldst thou miss any life in losing mine? And would the sun for thee more coldly shine Because of grave-damps falling round my head? I marveled, my Beloved, when I read Thy thought so in the letter. I am thine-- But . . . so much to thee? Can I pour thy wine While my hands tremble? Then my soul, instead Of dreams of death, resumes lifes lower range. Then, love me, Love ! look on me--breathe on me ! As brighter ladies do not count it strange,

For love, to give up acres and degree, I yield the grave for thy sake, and exchange My near sweet view of Heaven, for earth with thee! Sonnet XXIII: Is It Indeed So? Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead, Wouldst thou miss any life in losing mine? And would the sun for thee more coldly shine Because of grave-damps falling round my head? I marveled, my Beloved, when I read Thy thought so in the letter. I am thine-- But...so much to thee? Can I pour your wine While my hands tremble? Then my soul, instead Of dreams of death, resumes lifes lower range. Then, love me, Love! Look on me--breathe on me!

As brighter ladies do not count it strange, For love, to give up acres and degree, I yield the grave for thy sake, and exchange My near sweet view of Heaven, for earth with thee! Let the worlds sharpness, like a clasping knife, Shut in upon itself and do no harm In this close hand of Love, now soft and warm, And let us hear no sound of human strife After the click of the shutting. Life to life-- I lean upon thee, Dear, without alarm, And feel as safe as guarded by a charm Against the stab of worldlings, who if rife Are weak to injury. Very whitely still The lilies of our lives may reassure

Their blossoms from their roots, accessible Alone to heavenly dews that drop not fewer, Growing straight, out of mans reach, on the hill. God only, who made us rich, can make us poor. Let the worlds sharpness like a clasping knife Shut in upon itself and do no harm In this close hand of Love, now soft and warm, And let us hear no sound of human strife After the click of the shutting. Life to life - I lean upon thee, Dear, without alarm, And feel as safe as guarded by a charm Against the stab of worldlings, who if rife Are weak to injury. Very whitely still The lilies of our lives may reassure

Their blossoms from their roots, accessible Alone to heavenly dews that drop not fewer; Growing straight, out of mans reach, on the hill. God only, who made us rich, can make us poor. A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne From year to year until I saw thy face, And sorrow after sorrow took the place Of all those natural joys as lightly worn As the stringed pearls, each lifted in its turn By a beating heart at dance-time. Hopes apace Were changed to long despairs, till Gods own grace Could scarcely lift above the world forlorn My heavy heart. Then thou didn't bid me bring

And let it drop adown thy calmly great Deep being ! Fast it sinketh, as a thing Which its own nature doth precipitate, While thine doth close above it, mediating Betwixt the stars and the unaccomplished fate. A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne From year to year until I saw thy face, And sorrow after sorrow took the place Of all those natural joys as lightly worn As the stringed pearls, each lifted in its turn By a beating heart at dance-time. Hopes apace Were changed to long despairs, till Gods own grace Could scarcely lift above the world forlorn My heavy heart. Than thou didn't bid me bring

And let it drop adown thy calmly great Deep being! Fast it sinketh, as a thing Which its own nature doth precipitate, While thine doth close above it, mediating Betwixt the stars and the unaccomplished fate.