The picture of your face and eyes and hair
Has served me well; I like the you I see,
And your sweet calm has passed inside of me,
Where friendship such as ours stands strong and fair.
Though lands and seas between us bar a touch,
Our minds can laugh and play so joyous much
That sonnets such as this, on rising wing,
Can fly delight between us where we are,
And for the trust we bear sway bells to ring—
The silver bell of Bright Thought like a star,
The golden bell of Independent Will,
And all the bells of Wisdom never still.
I hear them ring in each typed word I see
And swing them back again to you from me.