Explore "Ad Cinaram" by Frederic Manning on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Sweet, though death may have thee utterly, / Thou art with me: / For when I sleep, mine ear / Wakes for thy voice, to hear / Thee; and I know at last that thou art near.
My soul then seems to put out hands, / At thy commands, / Through the thin veils of flesh / That hold it in a mesh, / For thy two hands to consecrate afresh.
Thoughts that all day are hidden deep / Rise up in sleep: / The reconciling night / Holds thee for my delight, / Beyond the senses or of sound or sight.