And like a ghost, she glimmers on to me. Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the stars, And all thy heart lies open unto me. Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me. Now folds the lily all her sweetness up, And slips into the bosom of the lake So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip Into my bosom and be lost in me ("Summer Night" – Alfred Tennyson)