Upon finally telling her.
I’ve always sought to find my heart,
To see it alive, as flesh or art;
But I, after I’ve seen or heard,
Find emotion is all too briefly stirred,
And further, what art can compare
To the suns set in clouds so fair?
Though, the sun’s all too single a sight
‘Gainst stars that sing in darkest night,
And they’re a dream, only till some cloud
Should come veil those eyes as a shroud.
But there are some eyes that I know
That into the night, they do not go;
And I know of hair, and oh a face,
To make the sun set in disgrace.
I know a smile that can’t be written,
And beauty, no artist could quicken;
Whose soul is vaster than the sky:
For whom my love will never die;
And a heart, that inside I find
The fullness of my heart defined.