And her heart is very tender,
Full of love and kindliness,
Yearning evermore to render
Goodness fuller, error less.
Through the Earth the spirit wendeth,
And full many a little child
With light heart her course attendeth,
By her gentle eyes beguiled;
Turning to her fond embraces,
Playing round her as she goes,
With no shade on their glad faces
Deeper than the budding rose.
A maiden dreaming of her lover
Like a star amid the night,
Felt the spirit bend above her,
In between her and the light;
And she quivered back in terror
From the spirit's offered kiss;
Ah! how often, thus, doth error
Backward fright our souls from bliss!
Then the spirit "Ah! thou dearest,
Wilt thou close thy heart from me?
Through the shadow that thou fearest
Heaven's own light will shine on thee.
"Like the streams that most refresh us
In the desert parch'd and drear,
Sorrow renders love more precious,
Makes the cherish'd one more dear."
On—the spirit circled gently,
Kindly round a Poet's heart,
Gazing through the veil intently
After life's diviner part;
And the poet bent to meet her,
For he said "The truth will be
Made through Sorrow ever sweeter,
Ever clearer unto me.
"We are blinded by the sunlight
From the heaven's unclouded blue,
But through mist we eye the One-light
Till we read it through and through."