VII
Don't speak! a word would mar it all,
Just put your hand in mine.
This silence seems of Heaven, to fall
From thence, a thing Divine.
Be still! to move would seem profane,
So magic is the night,
All hushed, yet throbbing with a vein
Of passionate delight.
Look up! and let your gaze enfold
My face that bends above,
And in my ardent eyes behold
The ecstasy of love.