Even as a hawk’s in the large heaven’s hollow
Are the great ways and gracious of your love:
No lesser flight or wearier wing may follow
In those broad gyres where you rest and move.
Most merciless, most high, most proud, most lonely—
In the clear space between the sky and sea
Wheel her huge orbits, where the sea-winds only
Wander the sun-roads of Immensity.
Yet have I known your heart and of what fashion
Your love, how great, how hardly to be borne—