 | The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston |  |
164
THE HIGHER SELF.
That higher self her spirit raised in me,
Pressed in life's fight, desponding shrank away;
And then, in irresistible array,—
Threatening to have me in captivity,—
Of tempters came a mighty company.
Then did I turn myself to Love and pray;
Yet still I felt my strength wane day by day,
And still I said, “Must these have mastery?”
Pressed in life's fight, desponding shrank away;
And then, in irresistible array,—
Threatening to have me in captivity,—
Of tempters came a mighty company.
Then did I turn myself to Love and pray;
Yet still I felt my strength wane day by day,
And still I said, “Must these have mastery?”
And when it seemed, indeed, that I must fail,
Came back that higher self and shook the door
Of my shut soul, and smote the tempters down;
And said to me, “Does not her love prevail?
Is she not one with thee, forevermore,
That Death may crown thee with Love's perfect crown?”
Came back that higher self and shook the door
Of my shut soul, and smote the tempters down;
And said to me, “Does not her love prevail?
Is she not one with thee, forevermore,
That Death may crown thee with Love's perfect crown?”
| The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | |