Chapter VIII

I have given all my heart to thee
As simply as a child
Giving a dewy flower, fresh and wild;
I pressed it to my lips and gave it thee--
I broke the flower's stem with burning hand;
Speak not, for words may hurt; but with thine eyes
Speak to my soul that it may understand.

The flow'r that is my heart, my sacrifice,
Tells thee quite simply that one must
Confide in virgin love, as children trust
In God who is so good and great and wise.

Let the bold spirit revel in the hills
In wilful dalliance and vanity,
But let us worship in simplicity
The very truth that holds our hearts and wills;
Nor can love be more fully said
Than when soul speaks to soul at night, and overhead
The innumerable silent stars like eyes
Burn each on each,
A speaking that surpasses speech,
Amid the barkening silence of the skies.