Poems (Mary Coleridge)/Poem 177

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CLXXVII TWO
No nearer to thy presence let me stand!Fate set me in a strange and distant land!There let my life run out its tranquil course,Unchecked, as now, with every painful breath,To feel between us a dividing forceMore strong than Death!
And say not thou, "This is Love's waning hour."By Love's own God, I never felt his power, ​The all-commanding terror of his bliss,Never in passion's noontide loved thee more.When I compare my former state with this,I never loved before.

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