University of Virginia Library


59

LIII. THE MAIDEN BLOSSOM

For all her soul is maidenly and pure:
It has not flowered—it is divine as yet
With God's first blessing, with fresh dewdrops wet;
The blossom waits for true love to secure.
All sorrow passes from me, all regret,
For now I know the paths of God are sure,
And that the glances soft that once I met
Are mine for ever,—so I but endure.
All hardness therefore, in this perfect faith
That so illumines and transfigures death,
I can make light of, suffering to the end:
Now that I know that holy God is true,
Life's clouds have parted, and the glad bright blue
Shows God's face as the lost face of a friend.