Do not surcharge our souls with that vile blame
To which our bodies are subjected here;
Nor heap them with the horror of dull fear
Base-borrowed from a life of torpid shame.
But let them linger like a lovely flame
Above the clay to which they must cohere,
Lighting the earthly to the heavenly sphere
To meet the mystery from which they came.
As midnight drinks a message from the moon
And morning takes her orders from the sun,
So let our bodies to our souls submit
And live for ever in their still high-noon,
Where morn and midnight gather into one,
And only angels on their missions flit.
Love Sonnet Lviii
Zora Bernice May Cross
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Poem topics: fear, life, moon, sun, submit, morning, mystery, flame, sphere, message, shame, high, live, horror, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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Irene: truly beautiful!
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