So in the dark grew Love, but feared to flower, Dreamed to himself, but never spake a word, Burned like a prisoned fire from hour to hour, Sang his dear song like an unheeded bird; Waiting the summoning voice so long unheard, Waiting with weary eyes the gracious sign To bring his rose, and tell the dream he dared, The tremulous moment when the star should shine, And each should ask of each, and each should answer --'Thine.' Winter to-day, but lo! to-morrow spring! They waited long, but oh at last it came, Came in a silver hush at evening; Francesca toyed with threads upon a frame, Hard by young Paolo read of knight and dame That long ago had loved and passed away: He had no other way to tell his flame, She dare not listen any other way-- But even that was bliss to lovers poor as they. The world grew sweet with wonder in the west The while he read and while she listened there, And many a dream from out its silken nest Stole like a curling incense through the air; Yet looked she not on him, nor did he dare: But when the lovers kissed in Paradise His voice sank and he turned his gaze on her, Like a young bird that flutters ere it flies,-- And lo! a shining angel called him from her eyes. Then from the silence sprang a kiss like flame, And they hung lost together; while around The world was changed, no more to be the same Meadow or sky, no little flower or sound Again the same, for earth grew holy ground: While in the silence of the mounting moon Infinite love throbbed in the straining bound Of that great kiss, the long-delaying boon, Granted indeed at last, but ended, ah! so soon. As the great sobbing fulness of the sea Fills to the throat some void and aching cave, Till all its hollows tremble silently, Pressed with sweet weight of softly-lapping wave: So kissed those mighty lovers glad and brave. And as a sky from which the sun has gone Trembles all night with all the stars he gave A firmament of memories of the sun,-- So thrilled and thrilled each life when that great kiss was done. But coward shame that had no word to say In passion's hour, with sudden icy clang Slew the bright morn, and through the tarnished day An iron bell from light to darkness rang: She shut her ears because a throstle sang, She dare not hear the little innocent bird, And a white flower made her poor head to hang-- To be so white! once she was white as curd, But now--'Alack!' 'Alack!' She speaks no other word.