Oh, is it you at evening,
And near enough to speak?
And early in the morning,
Your breath upon my cheek?
And when the city noises
Turn into clouds that sing,
Is it your veil around me,
Of hush, and wondering?
And is it you, at sunset,
Who beckon me apart
Till I am something golden,
With petals in my heart?
Ah, Dearness, somewhere over!
A happy child is this
That with shut eyes uplifted,
Waits for you with a kiss.