We oft forget love’s primal meeting past

As if stunned souls stood blinded by the sun,

Yet at first blush, who stops to pause or ask

If this celestial vision is the one.

So, awestruck—bound in silence there we stand

As senses gather sense of words to say,

By hope in phrases golden, bold and grand—

But more in truth, dry mouthed and dull as clay.

Still we press on, insouciance to prove

Full drowned in admiration, strained to think

That such a being could our earth so move

And set us standing dumbstruck at the brink.

‘Tis little wonder that first words there said

Can find scant refuge in a swimming head.