THE after-even ! Ah, did I walk,
Indeed, in her or even ?
For nothing of me or around
But absent She did leaven,
Felt in my body as its soul,
And in my soul its heaven.
"Ah me ! m y very flesh turns soul,
Essenced," I sighed, " with bliss !"
And the blackbird held his lutany,
All f ragrant-through with bliss ;
And all things stilled were as a maid
Sweet with a single kiss.
For grief of perfect fairness, ève
Could nothing do but smile;
The rime was far too perfect fair,
Being but for a while;
And ah, in me, too happy grief
Blinded herself with smile!
The sunset at its radiant heart
Had somewhat unconfest:
The bird was loath of speech, its song
Half-refluent on its breast,
And made melodious toyings with
A note or two at best.
And she was gone, my sole, my Fair,
Ah, sole my Fair, was gone !
Methinks, throughout the world 'twere right
I had been sad alone;
And yet, such sweet in all things* heart,
And such sweet in my own !