Edward Dowden - Brother d**h lyrics

When thou would'st have me go with thee, O d**h, Over the utmost verge, to the dim place, Practise upon me with no amorous grace Of fawning lips, and words of delicate breath, And curious music thy lute uttereth; Nor think for me there must be sought-out ways Of cloud and terror; have we many days Sojourned together, and is this thy faith? Nay, be there plainness 'twixt us; come to me Even as thou art, O brother of my soul; Hold thy hand out and I will place mine there; I trust thy mouth's inscrutable irony, And dare to lay my forehead where the whole Shadow lies deep of thy purpureal hair.