It close and know it mine. Ere I might lift
The shining thing and hold it to my breast
Again I heard thy voice with vague unrest.

"These are twin birds and may not parted be."
Full in thine eyes I gazed, and read therein
The paradox of life, of love, of sin,
As on a night of cloud and mystery
One darting flash makes bright the hidden ways,
And feet tread knowingly though thick the haze.

Thy gift, if so I chose,--no other hand
Save thine.--I reached and gathered to my heart
The quivering, sentient things.--Sometimes I start
To know them hidden there.--If I should stand
Idly, some day, and _one_,--God help me!--breast
A homing breeze,--my _brown_ bird knows _its_ nest.




Dream-Song.

Cam'st thou not nigh to me
In that one glimpse of thee
When thy lips, tremblingly,
Said: "My Beloved."
'Twas but a moment's space,
And in that crowded place
I dared not scan thy face