Spencer Heath Archive

Item 571

Several versions of a poem by Heath

 

 

 

  DESIRE

Thane eyes to darken I’d not gaze upon,

Thy hand to crush my fingers not entwine;

I would not press thy shrinking heart beyond

The measure of its throb to answer mine;

But I would love thee as the dew descends

Upon the rose whom its caress has won

And, love-impassioned, at the morn ascends

A sweet and fragrant incense to the sun.

 

 

/The word exalted is penciled in as a possible alternate to impassioned. The above was taken from the following earlier version:/

 

How dearly I do wish that frequently

My telephone might ring and you be there,

A melody of greeting — laughter — love.

Is this too dear a wish for me to dare?

Two stars, your eyes, once drew my heart, spell-bound,

Into such heavenly graces of your own

My sense of unworth bowed me to the ground

Until, alas, your loveliness was flown.

Yet must I hope for some day, Heaven-blest,

When I, at least, can be as once of old

A grateful balm, a welcome shade and rest,

Is this too high a hope for me to hold?

 

Thine eyes, to darken, I’d not gaze upon;

Thy hand, to crush, my fingers ne’er entwine;

I would not press thy shrinking heart beyond

The measure of its throb to answer mine.

But I would love thee as the dew descends

Upon the rose whom its caress has won

And, nectar-fragrant, at the morn ascends

A sweet and gracious incense to the sun.

 

/Still another version ends thusly:/

 

         Upon the rose whom its caress has won

     And, rising hallowed at the morn, becomes

         A love-impassioned incense to the sun.