Kisses Are Long Forgotten Of This Twain, Kisses And Words - The Sweet Small Prophecies That Run Before The Lord Of Love: The Fain Touch Of The Hand, And Feasting Of The Eyes, All Tendrilled Sweets That Blossom At The Door Of The Stern Doom, Whose Ecstacy Is This - The End Of All Small Speech Of Word Or Kiss, And Whose Strange Name Is Love - And One Name More. One Is This Twain Past Power Of Speech To Tell, Each Lost In Each, And Each For Ever Found; Drained Is The Cup That Holds Both Heaven And Hell; Peace Deep As Peace Of Those Divinely Drowned In Leagues Of Moonlit Water Wraps Them Round, And It Is Well With Them - Yea! It Is Well.