noon
Face to face in my chamber , my silent chamber , I saw her : God and she and I only , there I sat down to draw her Soul through The clefts of confession -- `` Speak , I am holding thee fast , As the angel of recollection shall do it at last ! '' `` My cup is blood-red With my sin , '' she said , `` And I pour it out to the bitter lees . As if the angel of judgment stood over me strong at last Or as thou wert as these , '' -- _ Elizabeth Barrett Browning _ . Howbeit all is not lost The warm noon ends in frost And worldly tongues of promise , Like sheep-bells die from us On the desert hills cloud-crossed : Yet through the silence shall Pierce the death-angel 's call , And `` Come up hither , '' recover all . Heart , wilt thou go ? I go ! Broken hearts triumph so .