These press upon my lips What lips of flame To burn me, unless slips Some cooler kiss, from shame Washed clean by God’s desire, To save me from their fire— Those kiss me and respire The perfume of the Name. Remorse and terror banished By pitying lovers, Who from my eyes have vanished, (The Lidless Eye discovers), Repenting souls that turn, Whose hearts with pity burn For me, who now discern Their love around me hovers. Their love wards from my head The furious hate Of those loves doubly dead That may not pass the gate : 84