Analysis of To My Love

“PAINT me,” you said, “a poem; give to me
 A breathing thought that I may keep to kiss!”
 While that low laugh that aye a mandate is
 Nestled upon your lips. Call memory
 To that fair moment when you heard my plea,
 And in the tumult of my arms' warm bliss,
 Like a frail floweret that is crushed amiss.
 You thrilled to frenzied life exultantly,
 And all your body pulsed with love's desire!
 Can I in words that perfect hour rehearse,
 Or write the vehemence of veins on fire?
 My lips would only kiss—and you require
 From my heart's royal hoard one pallid verse—
 The grey, cold ashes left on passion's pyre!