E'en like two little bank-dividing brooks,
That wash the pebbles with their wanton streams,
And having ranged and searched a thousand nooks,
Meet both at length in silver-breasted Thames,
Where in a greater current they conjoin:
So I my best-beloved's am; so he is mine.
E'en so we met; and after long pursuit,
E'en so we joined, we both became entire;
No need for either to renew a suit,
For I was flax, and he was flames of fire
Our firm-united souls did more than twine;
So I my best-beloved's am; so he is mine...
Nor time, nor place, nor chance, nor death can bow
My least desires unto the last remove;
He's firmly mine by oath; I his by vow;
He's mine by faith; and I am his by love;
[He's mine by water; I am his by wine:]
Thus I my best-beloved's am; thus he is mine.
[He is my altar; I, his holy place;
I am his guest; and he, my living food;
I'm his by penitence; he mine by grace;
I'm his by purchase; he is mine by blood;
He's my supporting elm; and I his vine:
Thus I my best-beloved's am; thus he is mine...]
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