No false mirage for thee, the fervent love,
The rainbow still unreach’d, the ideal gleam,
That ever seems before, beyond, above,
Far off to shine.
But thou, from all the daughters of the earth
Singled and mark’d, hast known its home and place;
And the high memory of its holy worth
To this our life a glory and a grace
For thee hath given.
And art thou not still fondly, truly loved?