Under how many suns have we embraced
In what long fields of flowers and streets of stone
In the strong light of summer, interlaced
And made, like God, a darkness of our own.
Oh when the bitter wind of longing blows
And all between us seems an aching space
Think that we hold each other close, so close;
We cannot even see each other’s face.
~G.K. Chesterton (1906)