'I love you, sweet: how can you ever learn How much I love you?' 'You I love even so, And so I learn it.' 'Sweet, you cannot know How fair you are.' 'If fair enough to earn Your love, so much is all my love's concern.' 'My love grows hourly, sweet.' 'Mine too doth grow, Yet love seemed full so many hours ago!' Thus lovers speak, till kisses claim their turn. Ah! happy they to whom such words as these In youth have served for speech the whole day long, Hour after hour, remote from the world's throng, Work, contest, fame, all life's confederate pleas,— What while Love breathed in sighs and silences Through two blent souls one rapturous undersong.