I DID not look upon her eyes, <br />(Though scarcely seen, with no surprise, <br />'Mid many eyes a single look,) <br />Because they should not gaze rebuke, <br />At night, from stars in sky and brook. <br />I did not take her by the hand, <br />(Though little was to understand <br />From touch of hand all friends might take,) <br />Because it should not prove a flake <br />Burnt in my palm to boil and ache. <br />I did not listen to her voice, <br />(Though none had noted, where at choice <br />All might rejoice in listening,) <br />Because no such a thing should cling <br />In the wood's moan at evening. <br />I did not cross her shadow once, <br />(Though from the hollow west the sun's <br />Last shadow runs along so far,) <br />Because in June it should not bar <br />My ways, at noon when fevers are. <br />They told me she was sad that day, <br />(Though wherefore tell what love's soothsay, <br />Sooner than they, did register?) <br />And my heart leapt and wept to her, <br />And yet I did not speak nor stir. <br />So shall the tongues of the sea's foam <br />(Though many voices therewith come <br />From drowned hope's home to cry to me,) <br />Bewail one hour the more, when sea <br />And wind are one with memory.<br /><br />Dante Gabriel Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/penumbra-2/
