CHILD, the hours that breathe around thee
Know thee most divinely fair ;
In its love the last enwound thee,
And the next shall take thy hair
Backward from thy forehead's whiteness
While upon thy lips it fold
Kisses, love-endued with lightness
Lest thou guess what none have told.
Though thou seest not nor knowest,
Love about thee, day by day,
Dwells and, whereso'er thou goest,
Walks beside thee all the way ;
Tenderly his glances greet thee,
And his words about thee weave ;
Even the winds and waters meet thee
Always, only, by love's leave.
Yea, though none can shape or show it,
Though no mortal logic prove,
Love himself doth surely know it :
Thou shalt, when thou knowest Love.
Page numbers in original volume