 | The Poetical Works of Oliver Wendell Holmes |  |
II
FAITH
MOTTO
Faith is the conquering Angel's crown;Who hopes for grace must ask it;
Look shrewdly ere you lay me down,
I'm Portia's leaden casket.
LETTER
Fair lady, whosoe'er thou art,
Turn this poor leaf with tenderest care,
And—hush, O hush thy beating heart—
The One thou lovest will be there!
Turn this poor leaf with tenderest care,
And—hush, O hush thy beating heart—
The One thou lovest will be there!
Alas! not loved by thee alone,
Thine idol, ever prone to range;
To-day, all thine, to-morrow flown,
Frail thing that every hour may change.
Thine idol, ever prone to range;
To-day, all thine, to-morrow flown,
Frail thing that every hour may change.
Yet, when that truant course is done,
If thy lost wanderer reappear,
Press to thy heart thy only One
That nought can make more truly dear!
If thy lost wanderer reappear,
Press to thy heart thy only One
That nought can make more truly dear!
POSTCRIPT
Fair lady, lift thine eyes and tellIf this is not a truthful letter;
This is the one (1) thou lovest well,
And nought (0) can make thee love it better (10).
Though fickle, do not think it strange
That such a friend is worth possessing,
For one that gold can never change
Is Heaven's own dearest earthly blessing.
| The Poetical Works of Oliver Wendell Holmes | |