University of Virginia Library


110

THE UNKNOWN GODDESS.

At first, I never guessed that such as she,
Who dwells among the stars,
Had stooped from dazzling heights to look on me
With all my ugly scars;
That one so heavenly could in pity shine
On one so earthly, mean,
And with her beauty human and divine,
Stop at a thing unclean;
I never dreamed a goddess on my fall
Had mercy's mantle thrown—
For though she was a goddess, she was all
Unknown.
I thought her only woman, white and fair,
Though with an angel's pride,
Till once to cheer the night of my despair,
She drew the veil aside;
And for a moment, just a little part
Revealed of purer grace,
The wonder of the love that was her heart,
The rapture of her face;
A glimpse of glory, for a life that ill
Instead of good had grown,
To comfort, though a goddess was she still
Unknown.
And now at times she visits me, in dreams
Of more than waking joy,
And flashes on my soul unearthly gleams,
To soothe my sad employ;
O when my treacherous flesh and blood would fail,
From onsets fierce of sin,
She lets me gaze a while behind the veil,
That shuts her beauty in;
And thus refreshed at work no more I fret,
If by the tempest blown,
Though with her gifts she is a goddess yet
Unknown.
She lets me touch the marvel of her hand,
At times, in lonely hour,
And then a light dawns on the darkest land,
The desert bursts in flower;
And once she gave my hungry lips a kiss,
That burnt into my heart,
And from the passion of that perfect bliss,
Life took a nobler start;
She is a goddess true, in ebbing tide,

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When other friends have flown,
Though still when she has drawn the veil aside
Unknown
At times her face is cold, and shadows break
The brightness of her brow,
And waves of stormy trouble seem to shake
The head they cannot bow;
But still they do not hide the heavenly fire,
That lights my humble spark,
And blends it with her infinite desire
Leading me through the dark;
And while I cannot hope to read her heart,
Or render it my own,
I feel she is my goddess, though apart,
Unknown.
But still I know, what often grieves me sore,
When nearer would steal love,
That one like me may never love her more,
Who is so much above;
I may not in the compass of my ken,
Embrace the mystic star,
But watch its radiant risings, now and then,
And worship it afar;
And though the thought be bitter seed of pain,
Deep in my bosom sown,
To me she must a goddess yet remain
Unknown.