by Thomas Burbidge.
Speak it no more--no more with words profane
What only for the language of the eye
Is fit--what only can be told thereby!
The heart has tones which words cannot contain,
And feelings which to speak is to restrain.
Like scent with scent commixed invisibly,
Or rays of neighbour planets in the sky
Inter-confused; or, as in some deep strain
Of music, heavenly passion is combined
With thought, and tone with tone in harmony,
Thus be the meeting of our hearts, dear love!
The pure communion of mind with mind,
Above poor symbols of this earth,--above
All that can baulk or cramp,--can change or die.