WHAT HAPPENS?

By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

When thy hand touches mine, through all the mesh

Of intricate and interlaced veins

Shoot swift delights that border on keen pains:

Flesh thrills to thrilling flesh.

When in thine eager eyes I look to find

A comrade to my thought, thy ready brain

Delves down and makes its inmost meaning plain:

Mind answers unto mind.

When hands and eyes are hid by seas that roll

Wide wastes between us, still so near thou art

I count the very pulses of thy heart:

Soul speaketh unto soul.

So every law, or human or divine,

In heart and brain and spirit makes thee mine.