The poem
I WOULD not have the love of lips and eyes, The ancient ways of love: But in my heart I built a Paradise, A nest there for the dove.
I felt the wings of light that fluttered through The gate I held apart: And all without was shadow, but I knew The bird within my heart.
Then, while the innermost with music beat, The voice I loved so long Seemed only the dream echo faint and sweet Of a far sweeter song.
I could not even bear the thought I felt Of Thee and Me therein; And with white heat I strove the veil to melt That love to love might win.
But ah, my dreams within their fountain fell; Not to be lost in thee, But with the high ancestral love to dwell In its lone ecstasy.