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Hurt not my heart with too much beauty, night,
Asleep along the moon-gold fields of snow
That, rising like a pale, vast ocean, flow
To the hill's crest, poised, lustreful, and white,
Breathless restoring the serene stars' light.
Move, ocean, masted with tall stems that throw
Tense, sharp-cut shadows, dark with indigo.
Break, silent wave, or break my heart, delight.


Merciless beauty, may this half-heart dare
Thy instant presence? Must I watch alone
Thy face unveiled? Then, since thou wilt not spare,
Give me my heart's completion in that one
Whose coming stills thy ache and gives me peace
To bear thy wonder's thousandfold increase.