In the young mother’s downward smile is sweet;
Or, sated on his body, walks abroad
In symphonies, and poems, and prayers to God;
Sins, and has conscience and, repenting, sins;
And in the lowly patient spider spins
Its fragile web; and in these words of mine
Flings out its groping utterance, line by line,
Across the intangible abyss of thought—
With infinite passion, infinite patience wrought—
Dread Loveliness! Be strong in me, be strong,