Love

SHE loves me! From her own bliss-breathing lips  
 The live confession came, like rich perfume  
 From crimson petals bursting into bloom!  
And still my heart at the remembrance skips  
Like a young lion, and my tongue too trips  
 As drunk with joy! while every object seen  
 In life’s diurnal round wears in its mien  
A clear assurance that no doubts eclipse.  
And if the common things of nature now  
 Are like old faces flushed with new delight,  
Much more the consciousness of that rich vow  
 Deepens the beauteous, and refines the bright,  
 While throned I seem on love’s divinest height  
’Mid all the glories glowing round its brow.