Last?
Does any one know what for ever means, if we do not?
Die, we must, in these dying bodies of ours, but part--no.
Love has burned the cruel sense out of that word, and bleached its blackness white.

We wounded the devil, parting, with one kiss, we killed him with the next--this buries him--ah, love, how sweet----" There was neither resistance nor the thought of resisting.

Their lips met and were withdrawn only that their eyes might drink again the draught the lips had tasted, long draughts of sweetness and liquid light and love unfathomable.

And in the interval of speech half false, the truth of what was all true welled up from the clear depths and overflowed the falseness, till it grew falser and more fleeting still--as a thing lying deep in a bright water casts up a distorted image on refracted rays.
Glance and kiss, when two love, are as body and soul, supremely human and transcendently divine.

The look alone, when the lips cannot meet, is but the disembodied spirit, beautiful even in its sorrow, sad, despairing, saying "ever," and yet sighing "never," tasting and knowing all the bitterness of both.