Ah, more to me than many days and many dreams And more than every hope, or any memory, This moment, when thy lips are laid immortally On mine, and death and time are shadows of old dreams. Now all the crownless, ruined years have recompense: In one supreme, undying hour of light and fire, The many moons and suns have found their one desire— When in the hour of love, all life has recompense. |