Measurements Poem by Louisa Sarah Bevington

OUR world is very little in the sky,
Far off she must be just a mote to see;
And on the tiny ball creep tinier we,
To live a very little while, and die.

My love is very great within my heart;
It sees in two dear eyes, infinity,
It finds in one sweet hour, eternity,
It has one measure:--nearness, or apart.

Ah, well! both things are true as truth can be!
The world is little and my love is great;
Yet who would rise triumphant over fate
Earth's breadth, love's narrowness, must learn to see.