The gladness, and the sadness, and the pain—
Came back upon me like a lifting music,
Beautiful, and most sorrowful, and divine.
Till a vast compassion
Up through the springs of all my being welled
Intolerably! Ah, even as to myself,
Unfaithful, the exuberant Bounty stooped
With arms of pity; so I longed to do—
To lose myself at last in the Great Self
That beams upon the just and the unjust,