Sweet Stephen

Sweet Stephen! my heart! I am sleepy—so throw,
That I may repose, thy coarse garment below;
"O sweet were the sleep I should sleep, could I be
Fast lock'd in the arms of a virgin like thee;
The arms of the virgin encircled in mine.
O privileged day!
The kiss of the virgin my kisses shall shrine
As sweeter than they."

But O if thou leave me, thy hand shall not break
From the stem of the rose-tree a rose-bud so weak;
Tho' the hedge may be high, deep the grave tho' it be,
Yes, Stephen! my heart! I will wait upon thee.
"In thy soft virgin arms will I rest till decay
Shall over me roll;
And the sweet virgin honey thy kisses convey,
Shall be food for my soul.