You only promised me a single hour: But in that hour I journeyed through a year Of life: the joy of finding you—the fear Of losing you again—the sense of power To make you all my own—the sudden shower Of tears that came because you were more dear Than words could ever tell you—then—the clear Soft rapture when I plucked love’s crimson flower.
An hour—a year—I felt your bosom rise And fall with mystic tides, and saw the gleam Of undiscovered stars within your eyes— A year—an hour? I knew not, for the stream Of love had carried me to Paradise, Where all the forms of Time are like a dream.