The Ecstasy

What is this reverence in extreme delight

That waits upon my kisses as they Storm,

Vehemently, this height

Of Steep and inaccessible delight;

And seems with newer ecstasy to warm

Their slackening ardour, and invite,

From nearer heaven, the swarm

Of hiving stars with mortal sweetness down?

Never before

Have I endured an exaltation

So exquisite in anguish, and so sore

In promise and possession of full peace.

Cease not, O nevermore

Cease,

To lift my joy, as upon windy wings,

Into that infinite ascension, where,

In baths of glittering air,

It finds a heaven and like an angel sings.