To Her
My child in love, the beauty of your eyes
Holds in their ardent depths a poignant pain,
How many sad and sacramental sighs
Breathe through their glance and wring my heart again.
What would I give could I your burden bear
Mingled with mine; I would not sink below
All of your grief and all of your despair,
Could I but once again transforMyour woe
Into the joy whose promise fair you knew,
Birthright of love which his great love fulfilled;
Passion more pure, and faith more firm and true
Earth hath not known and Heaven hath not willed.—
And yet, perchance, could I your anguish lift
I should be robbing you of Life's best gift!
Holds in their ardent depths a poignant pain,
How many sad and sacramental sighs
Breathe through their glance and wring my heart again.
What would I give could I your burden bear
Mingled with mine; I would not sink below
All of your grief and all of your despair,
Could I but once again transforMyour woe
Into the joy whose promise fair you knew,
Birthright of love which his great love fulfilled;
Passion more pure, and faith more firm and true
Earth hath not known and Heaven hath not willed.—
And yet, perchance, could I your anguish lift
I should be robbing you of Life's best gift!
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