Crisis is sweet and yet the Heart
Upon the hither side
Has Dowers of Prospective
To Denizens denied
Inquire of the closing Rose
Which rapture she preferred
And she will point you sighing
To her rescinded Bud.
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Her sweet Weight on my Heart a Night
Had scarcely deigned to lie —
When, stirring, for Belief's delight,
My Bride had slipped away —
If 'twas a Dream — made solid — just
The Heaven to confirm —
Or if Myself were dreamed of Her —
The power to presume —
With Him remain...Sweet Pirate of the heart,
Not Pirate of the Sea,
What wrecketh thee?
Some spice's Mutiny —
Some Attar's perfidy?
Confide in me.Sweet Skepticism of the Heart —
That knows — and does not know —
And tosses like a Fleet of Balm —
Affronted by the snow —
Invites and then retards the Truth
Lest Certainty be sere
Compared with the delicious throe
Of transport thrilled with Fear —