Classic Poem

I have discovered where she lives
And loiter near the place;
The thought that I am near her gives
Me solace for a space.
Here is the gate with rusty springs,
Here is the garden small,
And here her dress has brushed the things
That grow about the wall.

She sees this swallow that returns
To nest among the eaves;
Her feet have stirred these very ferns,
She may have touched these leaves.
Her very presence must have blessed
These things that fly or crawl;
Even the twigs that I caressed
She knows, she loves them all.

She is a part of all that grows,
Of all that dares and dreams,
She is the fragrance of the rose,
The soul of laughing streams.
And though I never see her near,
No sorrow burdens me;
Her grace, her charm is always here
In everything I see.