A look that shows the heart away from home
Can often put the dearest words to flight.
Perhaps the time of meeting, or the form,
May chill or wither what we've longed to say:
What fits the sunshine will not fit the storm—
What blends with twilight, jars with noon of day.
Again, when all things seem our wish to serve,
Full opportunity may strike us dumb—
May sink our precious thoughts in deep reserve,
And to the surface bid the lightest come.