WHAT I desire to say will not be caught in words. -- I have been on the hills to-day, hearing strange leaves and birds. I have been on the city street, hearing the pavements groan. Now I am come again, glad of your face alone. Here in the quiet house, where the soft night walks through Window and open door, whispering to me and you, -- Here, where no stranger sounds than the far bellchimes come, -- Here, being most at peace, yet am I far from home. -- Even as if the stars started and strained in space, -- Even as if the winds shook Heaven's audience-place, Pressing the sapphire walls, out, till they cracked and rent, -- So in my side my heart strains through our still content. -- You, that of all the world know the wild ways I go, -- (You, flying farther yet, sweeping more high, more low,) Even to you, to-night, I must be dumb as death. What I desire to say dies ere I give it breath. |