An exquisite sentiment from Dante’s La Vita Nuova, Chapter III. This sonnet is breathtaking.
The first three hours of night were almost spent
The time that every star shines down on us
When Love appeared to me so suddenly
That I still shudder at the memory.
Joyous Love, sing to me
the while he held my heart within his hands
and in his arms, my lady lay asleep wrapped in a veil.
He woke her then, trembling and obedient
She ate that burning heart out of his hand;
Weeping, I saw him then depart from me.
Sentiments, stolen moments known only to the lovers are a ripened fruit. Devoured, consumed and then only a memory. Lovely nonetheless.