Alone, the speaker feels an immediate physical pull toward the absent beloved: eyes invite, hands cannot be still, senses ache. Empty cells fill, and the body feels its own walls shake. Thought does its best to take over, running freely, listening, doubting, and even finding a strange happiness in imagining the loved one near. But that comfort keeps slipping because the person is not actually there. What remains is a sharp split between mind and body. The mind can hold the beloved in thought, yet the arms and eyes still say, Come, restless and pained. The closing lines are almost a protest: the body was never meant to stay asleep, resting contentedly on thought’s calm breast. The mood is urgent, intimate, and quietly tormented by physical longing.
Perversities II — Summary
Yet when I am alone my eyes say, Come. My hands cannot be still. In that first moment all my senses ache, Cells, that were empty fill, The clay walls shake, And unimprisoned thought runs where it will.
Runs and is glad and listens and doubts, and glooms Because you are not here. Then once more rises and is clear again As sense is never clear, And happy, though in vain These eyes wait and these arms to bring you near.
Yet spite of thought my arms and eyes say, Come, Pained with such discontent. For though thought have you all my senses ache-- O, it was not meant My body should never wake But on thought's tranquil bosom rest content.