Helen Dudley

I HAVE seen the proudest stars

That wander on through space,

Even the sun and moon,

But not your face.

I have heard the violin,

The winds and waves rejoice

In endless minstrelsy,

Yet not your voice.

I have touched the trillium,

Pale flower of the land,

Coral, anemone,

And not your hand.

I have kissed the shining feet

Of Twilight lover-wise,

Opened the gates of Dawn—

Oh not your eyes!

I have dreamed unwonted things,

Visions that witches brew,

Spoken with images,

Never with you.