No longer now my curtained sight,
    On serried books and pictures dwelling,
    Of long-neglected work is telling,
But looks beyond the travelling night.

And here no longer is my home,
    For you and I are far asunder:
    I hear again the cascade thunder
And watch the little pool of foam.

And where the water, pouring sleek,
    In sudden whiteness flings his treasure,
    I see you sitting, Queen of Pleasure,
Clad only by the glittering creek.

I hold my arms to you once more,
    For O my longing flesh is aching,
    And you, your rocky throne forsaking,
Come cool and radiant to the shore.

I see my girl of girls recline
    On smooth rock sloping to the water;
    Then savagely have leapt and caught her,
And limpid eyes look up at mine.

Love, Love, O Love, the embracing sun,
    The trees, the creek, the earth our mother,
    Who made that hour, give such another,
And make us—see us—know us one.