Page:Home; or, The unlost paradise (IA homeorunlostpara00palm).pdf/97

That back reflects her glance, as she for him
And he for her some secret fain would guard;
As if by some keen instinct each did read
The other's thought, to words not trusted yet—
Not uttered in full phrase—yet half expressed
Perchance not seldom, by some act or look,
Some pressure of the hand, some opening bud
Given to adorn the hair and meekly worn;
Some book together read, or some soft strain
In the still twilight by two voices sung!

  There is a time to love!—a holy time
When from deep well-springs in the throbbing breast
Gush forth affection's purest, richest streams,
And flow unchecked, bearing through all the soul
Mysterious happiness; when fleet-winged thought,
As finished occupation sets it free,
To the loved being flies and lingers long—
As the wild bee, tasted the nectared cup,
Delays, and yet delays, its homeward flight—
Or, all impatient, in the busy hour,