Classic Poem

LII

I cannot love thee as I ought,
For love reflects the thing beloved;
My words are only words, and moved
Upon the topmost froth of thought.

" Yet blame not thou thy plaintive song,"
The Spirit of true love replied;
" Thou canst not move me from thy side,
Nor human frailty do me wrong.

" What keeps a spirit wholly true
To that ideal which he bears?
What record? not the sinless years
That breathed beneath the Syrian blue:

" So fret not, like an idle girl,
That life is dashed with flecks of sin.
Abide: thy wealth is gathered in,
When Time hath sundered shell from pearl."