Classic Poem

" My brother! " said before me a sweet maid,
Who look'd a sister's feeling from her eye,
And thereupon I wept; — for I had none,
Brother nor sister — and my way of life
Hath been among the hills, and where the waste,
Sandy, and like the ocean-plane spread out,
Pains the sick eye with gazing. I, alas!
Have known no brother's, felt no sister's love,
Drank fondly of no blessings, such as make
A cottage fireside seem a home like heaven,
Where all is peace and truth. Yet less I've sought
Of love, than of permission but to love. —
The right to choose, from out the hurrying crowd,
My thing of worship. I have none to love —
None for whose single good my heart may hope —
None for whose choice delight my form may rove,
Bringing home dear enjoyments. Mine hath been
The life of want that sister had supplied —
The other self, — most sweet, most singular,
To whom, as to an altar of high thought,
My heart, when otherwise denied, might turn,
Secure of comfort. You may hold it weak
That thus I wept, hearing that maiden call
The youth who stood beside her. Worlds had I given
Had she but call'd me thus. Had she but placed
Her arm upon my own, — look'd in my face
With that dear smile of confidence, and said
" My brother, " I had proudly made her thence
My deity, and she had fill'd my heart,
Its soul and sovereign thence, for evermore!