The Secret Splendour

Tell not your joy to even your own heart,

Lest those loud beats prove blabberers to a world

Whose air's a-swann with a myriad jealousies

Or haunted by cloud and rain and the rose's fall.

Silence selfduminous is the true speech

Of all things rare within the human hours.

 Hide deep the inexhaustible gold that is love

 Safe from the greedy gaze of a hollow crowd:

Keep the smile-touch of everlasting suns

Secret in some inviolate cave of dream.

There, in a hush, sit storing the great bliss

You gather with each heaven-hungry kiss.

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