My Heart, When First the Blackbird Sings

My heart, when first the blackbird sings,
    My heart drinks in the song:
Cool pleasure fills my bosom through
    And spreads each nerve along.

My bosom eddies quietly,
    My heart is stirred and cool
As when a wind-moved briar sweeps
    A stone into a pool

But unto thee, when thee I meet,
    My pulses thicken fast,
As when the maddened lake grows black
    And ruffles in the blast.