Classic Poem

Two feet apart, straight-limbed on the heathered hill
We lie, under the wavering haze
Of the sun, even as two logs that lie still
In the heart of a blaze.
Side by side we lie through the long
Late noon together;
On us the light wind stoops his strong,
Hot, sweet scents of heather.
No word breaks the air that smothers,
Lest we miss
The dull heart-beat of the earth below each other's,
And the soft kiss
Of breathless heather upon heather, while the sun
Beats on us encouraging the swiftening blood,
Till up the limbs and through the ears it run,
A thin, red singing flood.

Love hath put in me might,
That was so weak;
I am strong with light,
My senses seek
Something indefinable, afar;
They go wandering, and return ...
With the light drunk off a star
They calmly burn,
Even as the immense sun burns on us
Till evening turns watery those beams of his;
And, rising from that joyance onerous,
I stoop a kiss
Lighter than the balls of fluff
The wind sways across the heath,
Though each invisible, hot puff
Scarce rocks a spray beneath.

I sit, and it is so still,
Now wind and sun have gone home,
I can almost hear distil
The dew in the gloam.
And from the clear and cool
Of the twilit air,
That is still as a pool
Iced over and bare,
I catch at length
The thought I have been searching for:
Did I absorb the sun's or just your strength,
Or Something More?