Happiest

Calling you now, not for your flesh I call, Nor for the mad, long raptures of the night And passion in its beauty and its might, When the ecstatic bodies rise and fall. I cannot feign: God knows I see it all— The flaming senses, raving with delight, The leopards, swift and terrible and white, Within the loins that shudder as they crawl. All that could I exultingly forego, Could I but stand, one flash of time, and see Your heavenly, entrancing face, and know I stood most blest of all beneath the sun, Hearing these words from your fond lips to me: “I love, love you, and love no other one!”