It is only a yearning of soul,
For the lovely—the noble—the true and pure;
A fond aspiration beyond my control,
That was born with my being, and must endure.
But I know that shadow and shine
Must over this world, float side by side;
That Reason and Folly still entwine
Their flowers of light and bells of pride.
And I, in whose heart so wild,
Too often Love’s music in Discord dies;