We sat entwined an hour or two together(how long I know not) underneath pine-treesthat rustled ever in the soft spring weatherstirr'd by the sole suggestion of the breeze:
we sat and dreamt that strange hour out togetherfill'd with the sundering silence of the seas:the trees moan'd for us in the tender weatherwe found no word to speak beneath those trees
but listen'd wondering to their dreamy dirgessunder'd even then in voiceless misery;heard in their boughs the murmur of the surgessaw the far sky as curv'd above the sea.
That noon seem'd some forgotten afternoon,cast out from Life, where Time might scarcely be:our old love was but remember'd as some swoon;Sweet, I scarce thought of you nor you of me
but, lost in the vast, we watched the minutes hastinginto the deep that sunders friend from friend;spake not nor stirr'd but heard the murmurs wastinginto the silent distance without end:
so, whelm'd in that silence, seem'd to us as oneour hearts and all their desolate reverie,the irresistible melancholy of the sunthe irresistible sadness of the sea.
