Intimate Vision

SHALL we regret the lost and lovely spring
That woke while you and I were yet apart?
And must we mourn because a bluebird’s wing,
Unseen by me, was thrilling to your heart?
What radiant constellations crossed the sky
While I was witness and you lay asleep!
Such countless gifts, beloved, you and I
Have separately received and separate keep.
Yet, though the star and migrant bird were fair
And we were young, — such benefit is proved
But dust to the munificence we share
Within a world awakened by our love.
We had no intimate vision of the land
Until we watched together, hand in hand.