Aught of Life's joy or of its brilliant light,
Or, missing, crave a fuller cup than this!"
Yes, hold me closer, closer; let me rest
My head, content, above thy throbbing heart.
Struggle and bay of laurel are the world's;
But this, my own dear Love, the better part!
Fame and Ambition—lo! do not they burn
With all the lurid light and gleam of earth?
Love, silent and benign, an influence sheds,
And heralds forth in life a higher birth!