Oh, l will hold pure heaven on my chest
When you have spoke my poetry to me.
When you have uttered utterings of mine,
And on your mouth l see life’s wonder-sign—
The ever-quiver tremble of lit love,
That vibrates quiet to the stars above—
Then, oh then, oh then—then on my chest!
Yea, I will hold you there! My prize—-Best!
For rhyme in time will come to say my say,
Most masterly come striding down the way,
Like giant now, benevolent in bliss,
With cheeks accepting of a giant kiss.
When you have all my poetry confessed
I’ll hold the purest heaven on my chest.