IX

I think we were both happy at dinner,
For after we had mad the compact of that kiss
And knew that we were each other's---
As much as man and woman can be,
"For a time," as she had said to Antoinette---
It was very easy to talk gaily and easily.
I said a number of good things which surprised me,
And I'm quite sure they surprised her,
Because I had always been very silent in her presence before,
For if one cannot speak out what is in one's heart
And cannot show what one is really feeling,
It is impossible --- at least for me --- to talk freely.

I was still too excited to eat much,
And, of course, I wasted so much time looking at her
When I thought she wouldn't notice it,
That I was always miles behind with my course,
And was scolded for making her look like a glutton.
I thought Antoinette's soup marvelous,
And then there was some fish brought from the boat that day.
And one of those inspired ragouts
Which you can only find in France,
And some fruit.
I fear I left more on my plate than I ate,
For how can one eat with one's heart still thumping
With the first kiss from a wood-nymph?
But my love made me taste the red wine
Which she had bought from Pere Somebody on the hill,
And then the white wine from a little auberge
At a quaint village, oh miles away,
So I tasted them both, and praised them,
For they were really good pure wine
Such as you can never get in England
And hardly ever in Paris.
And then after the dessert, although I protested
That I was already so drunk with love
That it was quite unsafe to give me anything else,
She insisted I should taste the amazing new liqueur
She had discovered in Spain last year.
Before she could get the cigars, I brought out my case
And handed it to her; and she saw
That I had filled it with the kind she likes best.
So she took one, because she know it would please me,
And that I had been thinking of her when I bought them;
And I took one of hers.

As I went over to hold the match for her,
I could not help bending down to kiss her hair
Which was smooth and glossy in the soft light
Like those crisp ilex leaves on the Pincian.
We went on talking quietly and happily as we smoked,
In the quiet room of that quiet house,
And were very happy, with no fever of impatience
Like young and inexperienced lovers
Always in too much of a hurry to join together
And generally punished by disappointment.
It was not as if we had any mystery to learn
(Except that it is always a mystery why two people love)
And we knew we should not be like the Romantic poet
Who found that "even the bed of love
Which in the imagination had seemed the giver of all good
Was no more than a wine-cup in the drinking and as soon finished"---
Which shows what sort of clumsy ass he was---
And so, like wise people the world over,
We enjoyed the present to the full.

A little later I said:
"It is do much warmer here than in England,
Couldn't we go down to the sea for a moment?"
So she fetched her cloak and we went out.
She showed me the garden in the dim moonlight---
There was a half-moon among the dimmer stars
And a good deal of light cloud---
And as I had scarcely seen it by daylight
It all looked strange and mysterious and beautiful.
We took a little path down to the shore,
And she said:
"There is the place where we can bathe to-morrow,
And there is a little boat we can row about in
Or go fishing, if you like."
Softly the garden leaves rustled in the evening wind,
Softly the veiled moonlight breathed on her face,
Softly the light sea fell on the rock and sand
With low continuous sound like the murmur of two lovers.

I found a small garden bench,
Half-surrounded by shrubs and facing the sea.
I sat down on it and took her on my knees.
And this time I held her very close to me
So that through our thin clothes our bodies were espoused.
Oh, I made no intimate caresses,
For a long time I did not even kiss her,
But sat with her body pressed to mine in the darkness
Mysteriously communing with her,
The mysterious essence of me with her mysterious essence;
A chance meeting of twin atoms in a dark infinity,
Oh, so brief a meeting in the infinite ages;
And what words cannot say and even kisses only hint at
We said to each other by silence through our veiled bodies.
And still like an inexhaustible fountain
There came from me that continuous outpouring
Of devotion and tenderness and desire.
Through many centuries of longing
I had thought of such communion with her
In the night, in the silence, we two alone, together.
After all the pain and the heart-break,
To slide into this delicious peace
And to be at one with my lady of Provence
Whom I adored so, was too much happiness.
My muscles began to tremble again and my head was dizzy;
And she said: "What is it, are you unhappy?"
"No, it is too much happiness after much pain---"
And she said: "You are tired out with your journey,
And over-wrought. You must go to bed."
But I said: "No! No! I wish this evening might never end;
Shall I ever be so happy again?"
And I began to kiss her mouth
Until we were both dazed and trembling.

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