Sonnet XI The Love-Letter

Warmed by her hand and shadowed by her

As close she leaned and poured her heart through thee,

Whereof the articulate throbs

The smooth black stream that makes thy whiteness fair,—Sweet fluttering sheet, even of her breath aware,—Oh let thy silent song disclose to

That soul wherewith her lips and eyes

Like married music in Love's answering air.

Fain had I watched her when, at some fond thought,

Her bosom to the writing closelier press'd,

And her breast's secrets peered into her breast;

When, through eyes raised an instant, her soul

My soul, and from the sudden confluence

The words that made her love the loveliest.