We sat entwined an hour or two together (how long I knew not) underneath pine-trees that rustled ever in the soft spring weather stirr’d by the sole suggestion of the breeze: we sat and dreamt that strange hour out together fill’d with the sundering silence of the seas: the trees moan’d for us in the tender weather we found no word to speak beneath those trees but listen’d wondering to their dreamy dirges sunder’d even then in voiceless misery; heard in their boughs the murmur of the surges saw the far sky as curv’d above the sea. That noon seem’d some forgotten afternoon, cast out from Life, where Time might scarcely be: our old love was but remember’d as some swoon; Sweet, I scarce thought of you nor you of me but, lost in the vast, we watched the minutes hasting into the deep that sunders friend from friend; spake not nor stirr’d but heard the murmurs wasting into the silent distance without end: so, whelm’d in that silence, seem’d to us as one our hearts and all their desolate reverie, the irresistible melancholy of the sun, the irresistible sadness of the sea.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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