and stare unchided, deep in thy dead eyes with passion.
For in their depths lies the largest Paradise.
Yet, if perhaps one pressure of thy hand.
Be granted me, then joy I thought of being complete. Were still very more sweet.
All that I ask, says love. All that I ask,.
It's just thy hand clasp. Cloud I brush thy cheek.
As Zephyrus brush a Rose leaf, words are too weak to tell the bliss in which my soul would bask.
There is no language but would desecrate profane a joy so great.
Please all that I ask, is just one tender touch of that soft cheek. Thy pounding palm in mine. Thy dark eyes lifted in a trust divine and those entwine lips that tempted me over mush
Turned where I may not seize the foremost bliss of one mad kiss.
All that I ask, says love, of life, of death.
Or of high heaven itself is just to stand.
Glance melting into glance, hand twined in hand,
The while I drink the nectar of thy breath,
In one sweet kiss, but one, of all thy store,
I ask no more."
"All that I ask "—nay, self-deceiving Love,
Reverse thy phrase, so thus the words may fall,
In place of "all I ask," say, "I ask all,"
All that pertains to earth or soars above,
All that thou weft, art, will be, body, soul,
Love asks the whole.
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