When we as strangers sought

   Their catering care,

Veiled smiles bespoke their thought

   Of what we were.

They warmed as they opined

   Us more than friends—

That we had all resigned

   For love’s dear ends.

And that swift sympathy

   With living love

Which quicks the world—maybe

   The spheres above,

Made them our ministers,

   Moved them to say,

“Ah, God, that bliss like theirs

   Would flush our day!”

And we were left alone

   As Love’s own pair;

Yet never the love-light shone

   Between us there!

But that which chilled the breath

   Of afternoon,

And palsied unto death

   The pane-fly’s tune.

The kiss their zeal foretold,

   And now deemed come,

Came not: within his hold

   Love lingered-numb.

Why cast he on our port

   A bloom not ours?

Why shaped us for his sport

   In after-hours?

As we seemed we were not

   That day afar,

And now we seem not what

   We aching are.

O severing sea and land,

   O laws of men,

Ere death, once let us stand

   As we stood then!