Or one has it, and the other is a dead body.

Ambrosia let them eat, and drink the nectar: here sit a couple to whom Love's simple bread and water is a finer feast.
Pipe, happy sheep-bop, Love! Irradiated angels, unfold your wings and lift your voices! They have out-flown philosophy.

Their instinct has shot beyond the ken of science.

They were made for their Eden.
"And this divine gift was in store for me!" So runs the internal outcry of each, clasping each: it is their recurring refrain to the harmonies.

How it illumined the years gone by and suffused the living Future! "You for me: I for you!" "We are born for each other!" They believe that the angels have been busy about them from their cradles.