Dear, we have sat with Beauty, you and I,
And trembled with a thought of viewless things,
So fleet, so frail, so seeming-sure to die,
Yet strong with wonder of ethereal wings;

Have sat in trance to Loveliness, with Love
Beside us, in a precious pact of three:
Love, loveliness and you—it sounds above
All earthly discords, like a song to me!


And though we transiently are driven apart,
And absence is an ache and an alloy;
We carry that shy music in our heart,
And we return to find but deeper joy.