 | Poems |  |
44
TO ---.
Love! to thy heart as to a secret shrine,Veiled with the awe of deepest sanctity,
From the o'erchargèd clouds of Fate I fly,
And find a refuge and a peace divine;
Then, let the tempest thunder wide and far,
Beyond the storm which Pain, and Want combined,
Have raised to 'whelm my manhood and my mind,
Thy steadfast virtues, like a guardian-star,
Point to the realms ‘where the Eternal are,’
While thy calm love with a transcendent light,
Yet mellowed to the chastity of Night,
—My God's sweet benediction, thus expressed,—
Burns in my soul, and mantles warm and bright,
O'er Grief's sad brow, till Grief itself grows blest.
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