Waller to Sacharissa
TO-NIGHT ! to-night! what memories to-night
Came thronging o'er me as I stood near thee.
Thy form of loveliness, thy brow of light,
Thy voice's thrilling flow,
All, all were there; to me—to me as bright
As when they claim'd my soul's idolatry
Years, long years ago!
That gulf of years! O God! hadst thou been mine,
Would all that's precious have been swallow'd there?
Youth's meteor hope, and manhood's high design,
Lost, lost, for ever lost—
Lost with the love that with them all would twine,
The love that left no harvest but despair.
Unwon at such a cost!
Was it ideal that wild, wild love I bore thee?
Or thou thyself—didst thou my soul enthral?
Such as thou art to-night did I adore thee!
Ay, idolize—in vain!
Such as thou art to-night—could time restore me
That wealth of loving—shouldst thou have it all
To waste perchance again?
No! Thou didst break the coffers of my heart,
And set so lightly by the hoard within,
That I too learn'd at last the squanderer's art,—
Went idly here and there,
Filing my soul and lavishing a part
On each, less cold than thou, who cared to win
And seemed to prize a share.
No! Thou didst wither up my flowering youth.
If blameless, still the bearer of a blight!
The unconscious agenTof the deadliest ruth
That human heart hath riven!
Teaching the scorn of my own spirit's truth!
Holding—not me —but that fond worship light
Which link'd my soul to heaven!
No!—No!—For me the weakest heart before
One so untouch'd by tenderness as thine!
Angels have enter'd through the frail tent door
That pass the palace now—
And H E who spake the words, “Go sin no more,”
'Mid human passions saw the spark divine,
But not in such as THOU !
Came thronging o'er me as I stood near thee.
Thy form of loveliness, thy brow of light,
Thy voice's thrilling flow,
All, all were there; to me—to me as bright
As when they claim'd my soul's idolatry
Years, long years ago!
That gulf of years! O God! hadst thou been mine,
Would all that's precious have been swallow'd there?
Youth's meteor hope, and manhood's high design,
Lost, lost, for ever lost—
Lost with the love that with them all would twine,
The love that left no harvest but despair.
Unwon at such a cost!
Was it ideal that wild, wild love I bore thee?
Or thou thyself—didst thou my soul enthral?
Such as thou art to-night did I adore thee!
Ay, idolize—in vain!
Such as thou art to-night—could time restore me
That wealth of loving—shouldst thou have it all
To waste perchance again?
No! Thou didst break the coffers of my heart,
And set so lightly by the hoard within,
That I too learn'd at last the squanderer's art,—
Went idly here and there,
Filing my soul and lavishing a part
On each, less cold than thou, who cared to win
And seemed to prize a share.
No! Thou didst wither up my flowering youth.
If blameless, still the bearer of a blight!
The unconscious agenTof the deadliest ruth
That human heart hath riven!
Teaching the scorn of my own spirit's truth!
Holding—not me —but that fond worship light
Which link'd my soul to heaven!
No!—No!—For me the weakest heart before
One so untouch'd by tenderness as thine!
Angels have enter'd through the frail tent door
That pass the palace now—
And H E who spake the words, “Go sin no more,”
'Mid human passions saw the spark divine,
But not in such as THOU !
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