Page:Wessex poems and other verses (IA wessexpoemsother00hard).pdf/190

 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?