Classic Poem

O love, I know not what thou art,
Or why thou camest to my heart,
Or where is set the golden zone
From which thy wondrous wings have flown.
I only know that loftier thought,
Diviner joy, thine advent brought;
That in this world a thing more sweet,
From birth to death, I ne'er shall meet.
My brightest dreams of what would be
When thou upon my life shouldst rise,
Were as art's painted imagery
To the deep fire of morning skies:
Clear-eyed, I now begin to see
What men have meant by Paradise.

Immortal Eros, who for me
Hast thrown the gates of Eden free;
Who, like a herald of the sky,
Hast brought this glory from on high;
What can I ask thee, but that thou
Wilt guide me evermore, as now;
What can I promise, but that I
Will follow, trusting perfectly;
Sure, by this joy thine advent brings,
The glitter of thy golden wings
Leads upward to celestial things!