And I am in your arms enrobed.

Your face is map enough for me
Your gaze, your smile, your frown, your glee.
If I want to know the rest
The shape your posture’s  made is best
For showing how your life is now.
A look, a gesture,  this  each show.
Till all you are is well disclosed
And I am in your arms enrobed.
Love vanishes when analysed,
And thinking too by Love’s despised
Use the means to fit the end
And then I’ll be whom you intend