Classic Poem

Words have been spoken that none may tell,
Two have been drinking at love's deep well,
And the World intrudes once more;
But it seeks in vain an apocalypse,—
From quiet faces no vestige slips
Of what has just gone before.

Up towards heaven or down towards hell,
So smiles are holy or writhings fell,
On the face that's all alone;—
But its rapture or tempest dies away,
And its greeting is that of yesterday,
When a guest uplifts his own.

O human face! mysterious sea!
In vain do we try to fathom thee,
So baffling is thy repose.
So quickly thou hidest all within,
So faintly thou hintest at what has been
Of passions or loves or woes.