What binds me to you? Naught but golden strings

Invisible to every eye save mine,

So being bound, the sweetest joy there sings

And by soft sway, draws closer to entwine!

These hearts once twain, now live together, one,

One heart, one soul, one being of delight;

A single silhouette beneath the sun—

One shadow soft enrobed in pale moonlight.

Who tuned these gentle chords that we call love

And plucks them so with but the softest hand?

Perhaps sweet act of Eros from above

Or Orpheus in some recital grand.

Bestowed by chance or yet ordained by gods,

No souls so blessed were ever yet more awed!