Have I not dreamed of you all night long,
  Love, my Love?
Shall I not tell my dream in a song,
  O my Love?

Have I not worshipped you six long years,
  Queen, my Queen?
Have I not given you bounteous tears,
  O my Queen?

Have I not said, when the spring was here, --
  "Sweet, my Sweet,
More than the pride and flower of the year,
  O my Sweet"?

Have I not said, in the dawning gray, --
  "Heart, my Heart,
I shall see my lady ere close of day,
  O my Heart"?

Have I not said, in the silent night, --
  "Dove, my Dove,
So soft of voice and rapid of flight,
  O my Dove"?

Have I not said, in the summer hours, --
  "Rose, my Rose,
Greatly exalted above all flowers,
  O my Rose"?

Have I not said, in my great despair, --
  "Soul, my Soul,
Love is a grievous burden to bear
  O my Soul"?

Have I not turned to the sea, and said, --
  "Life, my Life,
If she be not mine, be thou my bed,
  O my Life"?

Have I not dreamed of your eyes, and cried, --
  "Light, my Light,
Lead me where love may be satisfied,
  O my Light!"

Have I not trodden a weary road,
  Saint, my Saint?
And where, at last, shall be my abode,
  O my Saint?

Sometimes I say, in an hour supreme,
  "Bride, my Bride!
I shall hold you fast, and not in a dream,
  O my Bride!"