90113: 'Has your soul sipped . . .'

<p dir="ltr">Has your soul sipped<br> Of the sweetness of all sweets?<br> Has it well supped<br> But yet hungers and sweats?</p><p>I have been witness<br> Of a strange sweetness,<br> All fancy surpassing<br> Past all supposing.</p><p>Passing the rays<br> Of the rubies of morning,<br> Or the soft rise<br> Of the moon; or the meaning<br> Known to the rose<br> Of her mystery and mourning.</p><p>Sweeter than nocturnes<br> Of the wild nightingale<br> Or than love's nectar<br> After life's gall.</p><p>Sweeter than odours<br> Of living leaves,<br> Sweeter than ardours<br> Of dying loves.</p><p>Sweeter than death<br> And dreams hereafter<br> To one in dearth<br> Of life and its laughter.</p><p>Or the proud wound<br> The victor wears<br> Or the last end<br> Of all wars.</p><p>Or the sweet murder<br> After long guard<br> Unto the martyr<br> Smiling at God;</p><p>To me was that smile,<br> Faint as a wan, worn myth,<br> Faint and exceeding small,<br> On a boy's murdered mouth.</p><p>Though from his throat<br> The life-tide leaps<br> There was no threat<br> On his lips.</p><p>But with the bitter blood<br> And the death-smell<br> All his life's sweetness bled<br> Into a smile.</p>