Talking so softsomely to me
My lover-dover said her,
“Oh strongfullest lover-man,
Who camest leapingly to me
Through rainy-falling stormfulness
To give you lover-dover lover’s bliss,
What hasest thou in thy mighty happy hand
That so firely flashes brightness
To my two eyes where now I stand?

Speaking loweringly in deepening undertone of voice,
I told her it was gold, pure gold,
For wearing glowingly around her darling glowing throat,
And that she was my own lover-dover one
Until the sun should pale and die away
And be no longer sun.

Then spake she most gladsomely
With ardent ooh’s and ah’s—at first;
Then pausing, secondly she said,
“In place of golden gold around my throat
I’d have thine hard brown hands right upon me gloat,
To feelest brightest treasure most of me
Beyond all things of earth and sky and sea.”

I rose upon the steep’ning highest cliff
And gold threw farthering far on out to ocean’s keep
And turned, and, softsomely now enfolden,
Gathering wondering lover-dover closely tight,
Felt all my soul within me glowing golden bright.

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