 | The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston |  |
386
TO THE SPIRIT OF POETRY.
All things are changed save thee, — thou art the same,
Only perchance more dear; as one friend grows
When other friends have turned away. Who knows
With what strange joy thou didst my life inflame
Before I took upon my lips the name
Which vows me to thy service? Come thou close;
For to thy feet, to-day, my being flows,
As when, a boy, for comforting I came.
Only perchance more dear; as one friend grows
When other friends have turned away. Who knows
With what strange joy thou didst my life inflame
Before I took upon my lips the name
Which vows me to thy service? Come thou close;
For to thy feet, to-day, my being flows,
As when, a boy, for comforting I came.
Thou, whose transfiguring touch makes speech divine;
Whose eyes are deeper than deep seas or skies,—
Warm with thy fire this heart, these lips of mine,
Lighten the darkness with thy luminous eyes,
Till all the quivering air about me shine,
And I have gained my spirit's Paradise!
Whose eyes are deeper than deep seas or skies,—
Warm with thy fire this heart, these lips of mine,
Lighten the darkness with thy luminous eyes,
Till all the quivering air about me shine,
And I have gained my spirit's Paradise!
| The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | |