" Mine, O love, you were mine for an hour,
You and the world for an hour were mine;
For the world with its beauty and joy and power
Lay here, flung at my feet as dower,
In the hour when life had grown divine,
And you, O love, were mine, all mine.

Flowers of face and fire of soul,
Breath of your life for an hour was mine;
And the gods of gods in whose control
Is the lightning flash and the thunder's roll
Knew never a joy that was more divine,
Than mine in the hour when I call'd you mine.

Honey of lips and the bosom's beat,
And the warm, soft arms for an hour were mine,
And the eager pulse of hastening feet
Whose echoes the words of love repeat,
And the sweet, low voice, and the eyes' star-shine,
All of them, all, for an hour were mine.

All that the years to come could show
Throng'd in the hour when you were mine:
Rapture of meeting, and parting's woe,
Tears, and passion's sunset glow,
Till I drank the wine of a death divine
From the lips whose kisses were mine, all mine.

Alas alas, that it all was a dream,
Only a dream that you were mine!
And that one hour with its golden gleam,
Floated past, like a rose on the stream,
Tells me that never an hour shall shine,
Never for ever, to make you mine. "