Classic Poem

Now, O beloved, in this pausing hour,
When peace, like a great river's twilight flow,
Isles us about from every alien power,
And all that hearts can know at last we know, —
Now let me speak words that within my breast
Have long, too long, dim to your passing view
Lain darkling, by a thousand storms oppressed, —
Now let me speak my holy love of you.
The topless peaks, the pure unclouded skies
That dwell remote within your spirit furled
I have not sung; and yet they filled my eyes,
Or how else had I sought you through the world?
My humors and my madness, fierce or cold,
I have told you all: my love I have not told.