Eleanor Farjeon

Sonnets. 13.Thy Glance Is Lovelier Than the Glance of the Moon

Thy glance is lovelier than the glance of the moon,
Thy breath more heavenly than the breath of may,
When thou dost gaze my sight begins to swoon,
When thou dost breathe my own breath swims away.
O love, with strange clear light, with strange dim breath,
Thou dost pervade me, till all strength, all sense,
Dissolve, it may be as they will when death
Looses the soul from the body’s impotence.

The stones I tread no longer solid are,
These narrow houses all are built of air,
Nay, are they on this star, or on that star
Distantly trembling? Am I here or there?
Love, love, I know not what is near and far,
I am with thee and thou art everywhere.