By George Sterling
The whispers of thy soul I cannot tell:
Hidden they lie like stars beyond the day
Or fragrances of lilies far away
Or jewels fallen in a crystal well.
They touch me as the echoes of a bell
By faery fingers tingled in their play,
Or gleam of dews where elfin bridals stray
Or glint of pearl upon a wave-worn shell.
O striving Love! whose lips so long to say
The fealty that the years must leave untold!
O Pain, with all the midnight on thy brow!
This, this is yours: to walk a lonely way,
To hold by faith a heart's untested gold
And hazard life and joy upon a vow.