English poem
The Beloved Presence
by Rennell Rodd (1858–1941)
Blest as the Gods are esteem I him who alway Sits face to face with thee and watching thee forgoes not The voice that is music and the smile that is seduction, Smile that my heart knows Fluttered in its chambers. For lo, when I behold thee Forthwith my voice fails, my tongue is tied in silence, Flame of fire goes through me, my ears are full of murmur, Blinded I see naught: Sweat breaketh forth on me, and all my being trembles, Paler am I grown than the pallor of the dry grass, Death seemeth almost to have laid his hand upon me.-- Then I dare all things.
Note 2