Because our talk was of the cloud-control <br />And moon-track of the journeying face of Fate, <br />Her tremulous kisses faltered at love's gate <br />And her eyes dreamed against a distant goal: <br />But soon, remembering her how brief the whole <br />Of joy, which its own hours annihilate, <br />Her set gaze gathered, thirstier than of late, <br />And as she kissed, her mouth became her soul. <br />Thence in what ways we wandered, and how strove <br />To build with fire-tried vows the piteous home <br />Which memory haunts and whither sleep may roam,— <br />They only know for whom the roof of Love <br />Is the still-seated secret of the grove, <br />Nor spire may rise nor bell be heard therefrom.<br /><br />Dante Gabriel Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xlv-secret-parting/
