Silkened over with viewless gauze the darkness

Under the rock, our trysting place in the wood,

Where the brook turns! Had we but passed from wooing

Like notes of music that run together, into winning

In the inspired improvisation of love!

But to put back of us as a canticle ended

The rapt enchantment of the flesh,

In which our souls swooned, down, down,

Where time was not, nor space, nor ourselves—

Annihilated in love!