And that I still love thee, so proudly, purely—
That shall be joy enough! Go calmly forth.
——
Would I were any thing that thou dost love—
A flower, a shell, a wavelet, or a cloud—
Aught that might win a moment’s soul-look from thee.
To be “a joy forever” in thy heart,
That were in truth divinest joy to mine:
A low, sweet, haunting Tune, that will not let
Thy memory go, but fondly twines around it,