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Poem by Mathilde Blind

* * *

Our souls have touched each other,
   Two fountains from one jet;
Like children of one mother
   Our leaping thoughts have met.

We were as far asunder
   As green isles in the sea;
And now we ask in wonder
   How that could ever be.

I dare not call thee lover
   Nor any earthly name,
Though love's full cup flows over
   As water quick with flame.

When two strong minds have mated
   As only spirits may,
The wold shines new created
   In a diviner day.

Yea, though hard fate may sever
   My fleeting self from thine,
Thy thought will live for ever
   And ever grow in mine.

Mathilde Blind

Mathilde Blind's other poems:
  1. The Desert
  2. Mourning Women
  3. The Hunter's Moon
  4. Perfect Union
  5. On a Forsaken Lark's Nest

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