1. It seems as if in every limb I have there lies
A heart that yearns, an eye that longing spies

2. For soft delights - if but his hands would touch
Cold barren rock, that rock would blossom wise

3. A branch that drank of heavenly bliss, that if
His raiment from his form were torn aside

4. Would flow in streams. His Maker formed of balm
And light's pure veil his modest limbs did hide

5. So gentle are the borders of his form
Imagination, melting, would but glide

6. O'er their soft sweetness. If a gnat's wing-breath
Should brush those beauties, trace of it would 'bide

7. O bending branch, as if a branch could see,
At thy soft bending it would glow with pride

8. He sways so gently that men's hearts are swayed,
And longing in their breasts leaps forth beside

9. My heart says to mine eyes whene'er they spy him:
"See there an angel or a mortal glide?"

10. Wine from his cheeks if pressed would flow, or light
Dispersed, if o'er them dawn its gates were wide.

11. Cheeks at a breath enkindled into flame,
Or, from their softness dropping gentle, glide.

12. Were there no moon to light the dark, God would
Make that lone servant moon for all beside.