By George Sterling

The whispers of thy soul I cannot tell:
    Hidden they lie like stars beyond the day
    Or fragrances of lilies far away
Or jewels fallen in a crystal well.
They touch me as the echoes of a bell
    By faery fingers tingled in their play,
    Or gleam of dews where elfin bridals stray
Or glint of pearl upon a wave-worn shell.

O striving Love! whose lips so long to say
    The fealty that the years must leave untold!
        O Pain, with all the midnight on thy brow!
This, this is yours: to walk a lonely way,
    To hold by faith a heart's untested gold
        And hazard life and joy upon a vow.

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