LYRICAL AND DRAMATIC. 191
Of space, for being the centre of all things,
Time is to us the Now, and Space the Here ;
From us all Matter radiates, is a part ,
Of our own thoughts and souls ; because we love.
Thou shudderest, clinging to me; though the night
Jewels her empire with the frosty crown
Of thousand-twinkling stars, whose hoary crests
Burn where light touches them, with diamond points
Of infinite far fire, save where the sea
Is ebony with sleep, and though the wind
Pierces the marrow, since it is the word
Of the Almighty, and cuts through the air
That may not stay its fury, with a cold
Nipping and chill, it is not in the wind ;
Nor though the thunder broke, or flashed the fire
From all the circle of eternity,
Were that the reason ; for thou shudderest
To hear the Voice of Love; it is no voice
That men may hear, but an intensest rich
Silence, that silence when man waits to hear
The faintest vibrance in the smitten air,
And, if he hear not, die; but we who love
Are beyond death, and therefore may commune
In that still tongue; it is the holy speech
And song of stars and sun; nor is it marred
By one dissentient tremor of the air
That girds the earth, but in lone zther spreads
' Its song; but now I turn to thee, whose eyes
Blaze on me with such look as flesh and blood
May never see and live ; for so it burns