Here count I over all the gentle deeds
Which thou hast done; here summon I thy words,
Sweeter to me than sweetest song of birds;
That came like grace immortal to my needs.
Love’s usury has reckoned such a sum
Of my indebtedness, that I can make
No lien large enough to overtake
Its value—and before it I am dumb!
Yet, O my gracious, most kind creditor,
I would not owe to thee one item less
We cannot give the sun requital for
Its liberal light; our office is to bless.
If blessings could be compassed by my prayer,
High heaven should set star-gems in thy hair.
THE DECREE
Last night I saw the warm white Southern moon
Sail upward through a smoky amber sea;
Orion stood in silver majesty
Where the gold-girdled sun takes rest at noon.
I slept; I dreamed. Against a sunset sky
I saw thee stand all garmented in white;
With hand stretched to me, and there in thy sight
I went to meet thee; but I heard thee cry:
“We stand apart as sun from shining sun;
Thou hast thy place; there rolleth far and near
A sea between; until life’s all be done
Thou canst not come, nor I go to thee, dear.”
Methought I bowed my head to thy decree,
And donned the mantle of my misery.
‘TIS MORNING NOW
‘Tis morning now, and dreams and fears are gone,
And sleep has calmed the fever in my veins,
And I am strong to drink the cup that drains
The last drop through my lips, and make no moan.
Strength I have borrowed from the outward show
Of spiritual puissance thou dost wear.
Shall I not thy high domination share
Over the shock of feeling? Shall I grow
More fearful than the soldier, when between
The smoke of hostile cannon lies his way;
To carry far the colours of his queen,
While her bright eyes behold him in the fray?
Here do I smile between the warring hosts
Of sad farewells; and reek not what it costs.
SACRIFICE
And O most noble, and yet once again
Most noble spirit, if I ever did
Aught that thy goodness frowns on, be it hid
Forever, and deep-buried. Let the rain
Of coming springs fall on the quiet grave.
Perchance some violets will grow to tell
That I, when uttering this last farewell,
Built up a sacrificial architrave;
That I, who worship thee, have love so great,
To live in the horizon thou may’st set;
To stand but in the shadow of the gate,
Faithful, when coward promptings cry, “Forget.”
Ah, lady, when I gave my heart to thee,
It passed into thy lifelong regency.