I thank all who have loved me in their hearts,
With thanks and love from mine. Deep thanks to all
But only three in all God's universe
Have heard this word thou hast said,--Himself, beside
Thee speaking, and me listening ! and replied
One of us . . . that was God, . . . and laid the curse
If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange
And be all to me? Shall I never miss
First time he kissed me, he but only kissed
The finger of this hand wherewith I write;
And ever since, it grew more clean and white,
Slow to world-greetings, quick with its "Oh, list,"
I lift my heavy heart up solemnly,
As once Electra her sepulchral urn,
FRIENDS of faces unknown and a land
Unvisited over the sea,
Who tell me how lonely you stand
Unlike are we, unlike, O princely Heart !
Unlike our uses and our destinies.
Our ministering two angels look surprise
On one another, as they strike athwart
I mind me in the days departed,
How often underneath the sun
With childish bounds I used to run
To a garden long deserted.
Because thou hast the power and own'st the grace
To look through and behind this mask of me
Thou hast thy calling to some palace-floor,
Most gracious singer of high poems ! where
The dancers will break footing, from the care
Of watching up thy pregnant lips for more.