I have seen the proudest stars
	That wander on through space,
Even the sun and moon,
	But not your face.

I have heard the violin,
	The winds and waves rejoice
In endless minstrelsy,
	Yet not your voice.

I have touched the trillium,
	Pale flower of the land,
Coral, anemone,
	And not your hand.

I have kissed the shining feet
	Of Twilight, lover-wise,
Opened the gates of Dawn:
	Oh, not your eyes!

I have dremed unwonted things,
	Visions that witches brew;
Spoken with images,
	Never with you.