Take all of me,–I am thine own, heart, soul,
Brain, body–all; all that I am or dream
Is thine for ever; yea, though space should teem
With thy conditions, I’d fulfil the whole–
Were to fulfil them to be loved of thee.
Oh, love me!–were to love me but a way
To kill me–love me; so to die would be
To live for ever. Let me hear thee say
Once only, “Dear, I love thee”–then all life
Would be one sweet remembrance,–thou its king:
Nay, thou art that already, and the strife
Of twenty worlds could not uncrown thee. Bring,
O Time! my monarch to possess his throne,
Which is my heart and for himself alone.
(Amelie Rives)
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