And what unto them is the world beside,

With all its change of time and tide? 30

Its living things—its earth and sky—

Are nothing to their mind and eye.

And heedless as the dead are they

Of aught around, above, beneath;

As if all else had passed away,

They only for each other breathe;

Their very sighs are full of joy

So deep, that did it not decay,

That happy madness would destroy

The hearts which feel its fiery sway: 40

Of guilt, of peril, do they deem

In that tumultuous tender dream?

Who that have felt that passion's power,

Or paused, or feared in such an hour?

Or thought how brief such moments last?

But yet—they are already past!

Alas! we must awake before

We know such vision comes no more.