Young Love V - The Day Of The Two Daffodils

'The daffodils are fine this year,' I said;     'O yes, but see my crocuses,' said she.     And so we entered in and sat at talk     Within a little parlour bowered about     With garden-noises, filled with garden scent,     As some sweet sea-shell rings with pearly chimes     And sighs out fragrance of its mother's breast.     We sat at talk, and all the afternoon     Whispered about in changing silences     Of flush and sudden light and gathering shade,     As though some Maestro drew out organ stops     Somewhere in heaven. As two within a boat     On the wide sea we sat at talk, the hours     Lapping unheeded round us as the waves.     And as such two will ofttimes pause in speech,     Gaze at high heaven and draw deep to their hearts     The infinite azure, then meet eyes again     And flash it to each other; without words     First, and then with voice trembling as trumpets     Tremble with fierce breath, voice cadenced too     As deep as the deep sea, Aeolian voice,     Voice of star-spaces, and the pine-wood's voice     In dewy mornings, Life's own awful voice:     So did We talk, gazing with God's own eyes     Into Life's deeps - ah, how they throbbed with stars!     And were we not ourselves like pulsing suns     Who, once an aeon met within the void,     So fiery close, forget how far away     Each orbit sweeps, and dream a little space     Of fiery wedding. So our hearts made answering     Lightnings all that afternoon through purple mists     Of riddled speech; and when at last the sun,     Our sentinel, made sign beneath the trees     Of coming night, and we arose and passed     Across the threshold to the flowers again,     We knew a presence walking in the grove,     And a voice speaking through the evening's cool     Unknown before: though Love had wrought no wrong,     His rune was spoken, and another rhyme     Writ in his poem by the master Life.     'Pray, pluck me some,' I said. She brought me two,     For daffodils were very fine that year, -     O very fine, but daffodils no more.