<SPAN name="VI"></SPAN>VI<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Come, let us rest a while beside the path,<br/>
Upon the aged bench long stained with mould,<br/>
And let me leave, between your two sure hands,<br/>
My hand, abandoned to your gentle hold.<br/>
<br/>
And as my hand that lies upon your knees<br/>
Is glad to be abandoned there and knows<br/>
Contentment, so my sweet and fervent heart<br/>
Between your gentle hands has found repose.<br/>
<br/>
And there is joy intense and love profound<br/>
Of which we do partake together now,<br/>
Nor trembles on our lips a single word<br/>
Too strong, nor any kiss that burns your brow.<br/>
<br/>
We would prolong the ardour of this silence,<br/>
Of mute desires the immobility,<br/>
Save that, when they quiver of a sudden,<br/>
I press your pensive hands unknowingly—<br/>
<br/>
Your hands wherein my happiness is sealed—<br/>
Your hands which never would attempt to reach<br/>
To all these sacred and profounder things<br/>
Whereby we live without the need of speech.<br/>
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<br/>
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