Classic Poem

Shall I set any blessing this side heaven
Against thy love for me—the light that shows
All other joy, the light whereby it grows?
Yes, one boon richer than thy love is given—
The right to love thee! If thy strength of wing
Can bear me with thee to thy luminous sphere
Of duty, take me; but I would not cling
With an encumbering clasp to keep thee here.
'Tis dear to think thee of myself a part;
More dear, though lost, to know thee what thou art:
And if, being such, thou vanish from my eyes,
I, nursing thoughts of thee, will wait the day
When at my side a shadowy friend shall say,—
“Thou, too, hast pinions; follow him and rise!”