THE golden moments fly like yellow bees,
Which come with honey from the flowery field.
The golden moments all their sweetness yield, -
Their flowery sweetness, honeyed memories.
Ah, memories too sweet for perfect peace,
Unless I share them; yet my lips are sealed.
Would not the charm be lost if I revealed
That name, to me so full of harmonies?
No hour, no moment, in the livelong day
But is weighed down with honeyed thoughts of thee.
Imprinted on the night's page dim and gray,
Thy smiling face, thine eyes, thy form, I see.
The music of the ocean far away
Without thy name would but discordant be.