WONDER

Following upon the faint wind's fickle courses

A feather drifts and strays.

My thought after her thought

Floated — how many ways and days!

She swayed me as the wind swayeth a feather.

I was a leaf upon

Her breath, a dream within

Her dream. The dream how soon was done!

For now all's changed, not Time's change more wondrous,

I am her sun, and she

( Herself doth swear ) the moon;

Or she the ship upon my sea.

How should this be? I know not; I so grossly

Mastering her spirit pure.

O, how can her bird's breast

My nervous and harsh hand endure?

Tell me if this be love indeed, fond lovers,

That high stoop to low,

Soul be to flesh subdued;

That the sun around the earth should go?

I know not: I but know that love is misery,

O'erfilled with delight.

Day follows night: her love

Is gay as day, yet strange as night.