That thou wilt ever yearn to share my kiss!
So being, I reck not whether years be fleet
Or endless!”—“But thou canst not see thy face
As others see thee! Thy deep eyes that greet
Their lucent-mirrored glimmerings, melt and meet
In glory there, to blind themselves a space!”
“Hush, O my heart! Thy vain hyperbole
Means naught; but take in both thy hands and turn
To thee this face of mine, and kiss my brow,
And after that mine eyes which cannot see