A voice says, Look me in the eye, You old, old soul, and say you love me. Of all the souls that ever were made There is none, none like you and me.

You cannot deny our footprints are one, And if the air should shift, or time run away, My wretched heart will be your light, As we dance amongst the trees, without a fray.

You are a blossom born of meadow, Frilling against the wind and the sky, And my heart, a vessel made for you, Forever spinning, forever soaring high.

• Robert Frost