I'd like to think all this yearning
All this striving, with useless tear
Is some Great Sympathy earning.
Like there were terms to Love's burning!
Half-way descends through one, down-bent
With her sweetened angel-meaning
This, of Heaven; in fixed looks sent.
More than half as good an entitlement!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem