Then praise Him, Soul, enflamed with Love
As Larks in Dawn, new Songs begin.
In My Heart
XXI.
O, what a Throb of Toil is in my Heart!
What Shrine's crowd-trodden Soil is in my Heart!
The Spring has come; again the Sower sows,
And all the Season's Moil is in my Heart.
The Veil which hid the World's fair face is drawn;
Disclosed, its inmost Coil is in my Heart.