Love Complete

By George Sterling

Why know I words, since words must ever fail
    To tell thy loveliness and my despair?
    Why have I sight, with thee so more than fair,
And hearing, since I falter at the tale
Of thy perfection? Half I long to veil
    Each traitor sense ordaining that I share
    Love's sorrow, yet denying that I wear
His dearest lily, mystically pale.

Robed in his Dream, I worship and I yearn
    In toils of adoration and desire,
        Slave of thy flesh and vassal of thy soul,
Fain of thy snows and roses, as I burn
    With passion's splendor and the spirit's fire.
        Too sweet to shun, too cruel to control.

Carmel.

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