THE GOLDEN THRESHOLD(20)

    Cover mine eyes, O my Love！Mine eyes that are weary of bliss As of light that is poignant and strongO silence my lips with a kiss, My lips that are weary of song！

    Shelter my soul, O my love！My soul is bent low with the pain And the burden of love, like the graceOf a flower that is smitten with rain： O shelter my soul from thy face！