You are the lodestone of my iron heart
Drawing over distance, though much stronger
The closer that you come. For when we part
I lose my north, and wander aimless; longer,
And I begin to think that west is north,
Flailing about at angles to my will,
And dare not for a moment sally forth
Without a guide; and make it longer still,
And catatonic I will barely move,
Robbed of my motion by your absent pull.
Therefore, if you too love, it may behoove
To stay close by, to make it possible
For me to come to you, and, pointing true,
Indicate how I incline to you.
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