Two lovers came; of many a common thing

TWO lovers came ; of many a common thing 
We talked ; then in a ring 
Drew toward the hearth ; the winter daylight died, 
And she was at his side ; 

He took, he stroked her hand. 
That we might know 
It is just so 
Love loves, the cadence of our talk grew low, 
The fire shot forth a brand. 

Then we forgot the lovers ; for the room 
Was filling with a doom, 
The pressure of a Presence that we felt 
Had power with them that dwelt 
In many a distant land 
And with the dead, 
No word we said 
But in a stupor watched the firelight shed 
Glow on the fondled hand.