Only through the senses have I known you,
But you are nearer than the things of sense—
Nearer than is the daylight in mine eyes,
And nearer
Than scent of orchard blossoms in the dark,
Or touch of mountain wind or water flowing,
Or long belovèd music heard once more
Among belovèd faces.
The sense of you is more than sight or audience,
The thought of you lies deeper
Than the clear springs of recollection,
The shallow tarns of dreaming.
You flow a stronger blood within my blood,
Poured from a heart whose pulses
Suffuse the veins of centaurs and of gods.
You are a thought encompassing all other thoughts,
Even as the sea enfolds the kelp and coral
And the sea-flowers arid sea-monsters
And the domes of deep unsunned Atlantis.