I feel the Love that moves the Earth,
That stirs the sea and blows the sand;
All of my days so sadly stand -
There is no ring upon my hand.
The shining intellect which woke
Enisled within its resting place,
Worth more than perfect form or face,
Has never known a man's embrace.
Why could they not look deeper than
The flawless brow, the satin skin,
Beyond the selfish lust for sin
To see the Light that burned within?
I knew the secrets of the stars
Within my melancholy mind;
But Beauty's smile I could not find -
My face was not of fashion's kind.
My heart with hope once overflowed
With ardent passion, youthful zest;
Its flame was quenched by thoughtless jest -
It beat beneath a shapeless breast.
My eyes dreamed like the Heaven's deep,
And saw the cherries on the grass;
I felt the 'chosen' smile, then pass -
I only watched through walls of glass.
But lonely still, and ageing grey,
Like sickled wheels the years now roll;
When this life's curse has reaped its toll
Then shall I meet my kindred Soul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem