Walking through the Night


As we walked through the quiet, mild night,
Your arm holding mine,
Your eyes holding mine,
The moon streamed silver light
Over your face
As if your lovely head were against a background of gold.
And you looked to me like a saint,
Mild, mild and great and so true-hearted,
As holy and pure as the precious sun.
And behind my eyes
I felt a warm impulse
As when tears are threatening.
I held you more tightly,
And kissed, kissed you quietly.
My soul wept.