Classic Poem

To him our wisest, him our best,
What praise or guerdon could we bring?
What crown of ours could show confest
Our crownless unanointed king?—
Our hearts we gave him; strong and true
His heart replied, to help or heal,
Yet dumbly in his look we knew
A nameless infinite appeal.

Wealth, honours, fame,—hope's common range,—
We named and smiled and passed them by:—
No shine or shade without could change
The vision of that inward eye.
That temple by great thoughts upbuilt
Was void and stedfast, cold and fair;
No wine was on its altar spilt,
A god unknown was worshipped there.

Yet rarely thro' its heights he heard
Egerian echoes floating free;
An unbeholden presence stirred
His brow's austere serenity.
Then from the altar flashed the flame,
Flowed on the hearth the fervid wine,—
From heaven and air the answer came
And stood a Spirit in the shrine.

One voice alone, one only hand,
The immaterial gift could give,
Could bid the world-wide soul expand,
A heart within the great heart live:—
No word of praise she sought to say,
For him no worldly crown to win,
But with a look, and in a day,
She gave a kingdom from within.

O fate ordained, august, secure,
And Love the child that never dies,
When to the stainless earth is pure
And life all wisdom to the wise!
Aye shall the inner hope endure
That looks from their illumined eyes;
Thro' this the very world stands sure,
And souls like these are Paradise.