Known Too Well

Lo! now how well I know the thing thou art;
Not more the color of thine hair and eyes
I know, than all thy various tones and sighs;
The laugh half-song, half-moan, that comes to part
The low clear voice, as placid as the heart,
Which, being stainless, needeth no disguise, —
Serene and pure as moonlit seas and skies
Where,through no thunders roll, no lightnings dart.

The music of thy voice by heart I have;
Yea, every tone, and semi-tone, I know;
The sound of taken breath, divinely sweet,
The touch of fingers, and the fall of feet;
I know thee better than the wind the wave,
The sun the heavens, or the Alps the snow.