Chapter VIII

Within the house our love has chosen for its birth,
With its familiar things that people coign and shade,
Where we two live alone with only witnesses
The roses gazing through the window from the glade;

There are some days so filled with reassuring peace,
Hours of the radiant summer with silence made so fair,
I sometimes bring to stillness the balancing of time
Within the great oak clock that stands close by the stair.

Then is the hour, the day, the night so part of us
That happiness which breathes upon us hears no thing
Except the ardent throbbing of your heart and mine
When quick embraces heart to yearning heart do bring.