Promise This — When You be Dying —
Some shall summon Me —
Mine belong Your latest Sighing —
Mine — to Belt Your Eye —

Not with Coins — though they be Minted
From an Emperor’s Hand —
Be my lips — the only Buckle
Your low Eyes — demand —

Mine to stay — when all have wandered —
To devise once more
If the Life be too surrendered —
Life of Mine — restore —

Poured like this — My Whole Libation —
Just that You should see
Bliss of Death — Life’s Bliss extol thro’
Imitating You —

Mine — to guard Your Narrow Precinct —
To seduce the Sun
Longest on Your South, to linger,
Largest Dews of Morn

To demand, in Your low favor
Lest the Jealous Grass
Greener lean — Or fonder cluster
Round some other face —

Mine to supplicate Madonna —
If Madonna be
Could behold so far a Creature —
Christ — omitted — Me —

Just to follow Your dear future —
Ne’er so far behind —
For My Heaven —
Had I not been
Most enough — denied?

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