Classic Poem

I ARISE to anoint my soul
With the unction of her sweet breath,
To bathe and wash in the light
Of her eyes clearer than snow.
Her eyes are like hyacinth,
And deep as the sea, and dark
As the hold of the mountain water.
To-day, in an hour, she and I
Will be face to face: from her eyes
Her startled soul will look out,
And mine will be comforted
To lend comfort to hers.
Ah, Saint Lucy, whose light
Ceased not with breath, nor was quencht
Under the knife-edge! Now
With the scars heal'd you are come,
Stoopt from heaven to earth:
And your eyes kindle and burn,
Gleam insurgent, are dewy
Like April blotted in tears,
Or quick to the Sun. Laugh now!
Laugh now, let no crying
Beat at your heart's shut door
For the treasure hidden and held.

Ah, little Maid!
Ah, little Queen, crown'd and raised up above,
Are you afraid?
Are you tremulous, fearing the accolade
Of my singing of love?
The flutter'd heart of a bird
Throbs thro' his wing; your heart
Cries in your mutinous mouth,
In your wide eyes, in your meek
Hands folded and still!
Give me your two hands — so; let me holds and kneel
Till the tempest be done,
And the sun shine over your face