To a Wood-Violet

In this secluded shrine,
—O miracle of grace,
No mortal eye but mine
—Hath looked upon thy face.

No shadow but mine own
—Hath screened thee from the sight
Of Heaven, whose love alone
—Hath led me to thy light.

Whereof—as shade to shade
—Is wedded in the sun—
A moment's glance hath made
—Our souls forever one.
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