Vi

So I kissed his thin eyelids full tender, I kissed his high forehead and pale, I sighed as I kissed his black splendor Of curls that were kissed of the gale, That were moved of the balm-breathing gale. And he woke and cried out as if haunted:-- "Oh God! for one note of that song! For a sob of that languishing song! Whose tumult of sorrow enchanted, And swept my weak spirit along!"