Classic Poem

And in that desert of void endless thought,
Like a white shining flower my love shall be;
A flower to bloom round and encourage me,
With tender petals marvellously wrought.
This gift, far rarer than all gifts I sought,
Shall be mine own: its utter purity
Shall make that desert like some grassy sea,
With lilies 'twixt the grass-blades twined and caught.

This one sweet flower amid the desert sands
Of hard fierce thought, a silver bloom, expands,
In token that one woman did not fear,
When all the other hearts of women failed,
Yea, shook like reeds, — yea, bent like twigs and quailed, —
To tread the desert, Love alone being near.