Learned to admire his loftiness of soul.
A sweet soul, that, except for seven years
Of utmost bliss, walked aye through life alone.
Their wisdom mystics offered him,—but love
Was all his need;—his lust for outward deeds
Was naught but—love, which sought for many forms
Of life in which to manifest itself.
That which this soul sought on the mystic path
Was needful to its being’s noble fire,
As sleep is to the body after toil.