Ella Wheeler Wilcox

What Happens?

When thy hand touches mine, through all the mesh
    Of intricate and interlacèd veins
    Shoot swift delights that border on keen pains:
Flesh thrills to thrilling flesh.

When in thine eager eyes I look to find
    A comrade to my thought, thy ready brain
    Delves down and makes its inmost meaning plain:
Mind answers unto mind.

When hands and eyes are hid by seas that roll
    Wide wastes between us, still so near thou art
    I count the very pulses of thy heart:
Soul speaketh unto soul.

So every law, or human or divine,
In heart and brain and spirit makes thee mine.