Is it thy breath, or some enchanted air
From far, uncharted realms of mystery
Which I have dreamed of but shall never see?
O Love, this low, wild music in my ears,
Is it the heart-beat of thy hopes and fears,
Or the faint cadence of some fairy song
On winds of boyhood memory blown along?
O Love, what poignant ecstasy is this
Upon my lips and eyes? Thy touch,—thy kiss.