XXV
There are so many things to say and do
After that moment of our breathless bliss
When separation ends upon a kiss,
And I have passed the dreary spaces through.
Words as of one long leashed by silence who
Finds tongue at last, and, eager, would not miss
Fulfilment of ten thousand fancies; this
Must follow my first swift embrace of you.
Secure within the palaces of thought,
And guarded by my soul as with a sword,
These fancies are; no curious eyes have caught
Their gleam and glory: you alone, Adored,
May enter the uplifted gates of gold
To hear and see what never has been told.
XXVI
There is a little path among the trees
That leads me to a quiet garden-plot;
Thither I go for the content of thought,
Dreams, and the quiet joy of reveries;
And in this place my simple melodies
Are sung with you beside me—fancies caught
From the swift moment, as if one forgot
The truth that cries: "Imaginings are these!"
So have I with the magic of the mind
Called and compelled you to my lonely heart;
And never have you failed me. Now I find
No more the anguish of dead days; apart
From you I faltered; at your side I gain
Gladness from sorrow, and peace out of pain!
XXVII
Come down the woodland way a while with me.
Be still, and know the spirit of this place
That is my garden. How each flower's face
Turns to us o'er the serried rosemary
Which guard my lilies from captivity!
What slow unfolding of the harebell's grace!
What quiet moving of majestic pace
In the persistence of the shrub and tree!