My stain of earth hath mingled with the stream
Of love that kisses thus thy ivory feet--
Perennial fountain, ever bland and sweet.
Unvexed, and clearer than yon heavenly beam.
Rages of passion, haply, sometimes seem
To tear the dwelling where my heart doth beat;
Or oftener still, its strait and dark retreat
Groans with the nightmare of some hideous dream.
Yet o'er this wrath, and this complaining moan,
For many a day, my wizard love has stood,
Ruling the issues of the heady flood;
So that before thee it hath ever flown
A crystal tide, with music in its tone,
Albeit, within, distilled from very blood.