Canticle

In my heart a wizard book, Only love shall ever look: Darling, when thou readest there, Wisely falter and forbear Ere thou turn'st the pages olden, Deeply writ and deeply folden, Where the legends of lost moons Lie in chill unchanging runes. Trifle not with charm or spell, Heptagram or pentacle, Leave in silence, long unsaid, All the words that wake the dead. Darling, in my heart withholden, Letters rubrical and golden Tell the secret of our love And the philtred spells thereof; There, my memories of thee, Half of all the gramarie, Are a firm unfading lore: Read but these. . . and read no more. . . . Shall it profit thee to find Loves that went with snow and wind? Leave in silence, long unsaid, All the words that wake the dead.