She could not match him wing-and-wing
Through all his broad and lofty range,
And feared what passing years might bring
No change for good, but only change
That would degrade her to a thing
Of homely use and household care,
And love by duty basely kept—
She bowed her head upon the bare
Cold rail that hid her face, and wept,
And poured her passion in a prayer.
XIII.
"Oh Father, Father!" thus she prayed:
"Thou know'st the priceless boon I seek!
Before my life, abashed, dismayed,
I stand, with hopeless hands and weak,
Of him and of myself afraid!
"Teach me and lead me where to find,
Beyond the touch of hand and lip,
That vital charm of heart, and mind
Which, in a true companionship,
My feebler life to his shall bind!
"His ladder leans upon the sun:
I cannot climb it: give me wings!
Grant that my deeds, divinely done,
May be appraised divinest things,
Though they be little every one.
"His stride is strong; his steps are high
May not my deeds be little stairs
That, counted swift, shall keep me nigh,
Till at the summit, unawares,
We stand with equal foot and eye?
"If further down toward Nature's heart
His root is struck, commanding springs
In whose deep life I have no part,
Send me, on recompensing wings,
The rain that gathers where thou art!
"Oh give me vision to divine
What he with delving hand explores!
Feed me with flame that shall refine
To finest gold the rugged ores
His strong hands gather from the mine!
"O dearest Father! May no sloth,
Or weakness of my weaker soul,
Delay him in his kingly growth,
Or hold him meanly from the goal
That shines with guerdon for us both!"