Confluents Christina Rossetti

As rivers seek the sea,
        Much more deep than they,
So my soul seeks thee
        Far away:
As running rivers moan
On their course alone
        So I moan
        Left alone.

As the delicate rose
        To the sun's sweet strength
Doth herself unclose,
        Breadth and length:
So spreads my heart to thee
Unveiled utterly,
        I to thee
        Utterly.

As morning dew exhales
        Sunwards pure and free,
So my spirit fails
        After thee:
As dew leaves not a trace
On the green earth's face;
        I, no trace
On thy face.