Ere yet I saw, ere yet I felt
Thy sigil-mark, or kissed thy name.
I read—'twas like a thousand birds,
Music confused of Paradise:
At last the words became thy words;
Thy voice was in them, and thine eyes
Above them shone in love and power,
And flashed the meaning on the whole:
We were not severed, friend, that hour:
One day shall blend us, soul with soul.