 | Verse-tales, Lyrics and Translations |  |
25
A GIFT.
What can I give, O well-beloved, to thee,
Whose clear, firm knock at my heart's door I heard;
I, reading o'er my life's old pages, blurred
Where bitter tears had fallen fast and free?
For thou didst enter in and comfort me
Whose soul was passion-tost and tempest-stirred,
Till I grew patient as a brooding bird,
And rest came down upon me, verily.
Whose clear, firm knock at my heart's door I heard;
I, reading o'er my life's old pages, blurred
Where bitter tears had fallen fast and free?
For thou didst enter in and comfort me
Whose soul was passion-tost and tempest-stirred,
Till I grew patient as a brooding bird,
And rest came down upon me, verily.
What can I give thee for a guerdon meet?
The utter depths and heights of love's sublime
I cannot fathom, dear, I cannot climb,
For sacred things to lay before thy feet:
I kneel thy suppliant, and I give thee, Sweet,
The right to go on giving for all time.
The utter depths and heights of love's sublime
I cannot fathom, dear, I cannot climb,
For sacred things to lay before thy feet:
I kneel thy suppliant, and I give thee, Sweet,
The right to go on giving for all time.
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