Dearest, thy heart beats on my heart,
        Oh, speak and say it is not a dream!
Tho’ we are these sea-blue miles apart,
        Dearest, thy heart beats on my heart,
And all its wandering pulses start
        To a thrill of hope and a bliss supreme.
Dearest, thy heart beats on my heart,
Oh, speak and say it is not a dream!

“Triolet” as it appears in Higginson’s The Voice of April-Land and Other Poems (1903).