CXXVI.THE ONE WANT.
I
One thing is wanting, one bright thing of earth,
To fill the cup of life unto the brim,
The measure and completion of my mirth,
For lack of which days tarnish and grow dim.
II
O earth! O world! O life! ye should have bred
For one like me more sorrow, pain, and fears;
Whereas from you, as from a flowery bed,
Hath breath, like incense, breathed for all my years.
III
Wherefore have ye forsworn your nature so?
For brittle wills, like mine, have need of stern
And hardy baptisms, which can only flow
From where pale sorrow bends upon her urn.
IV
Why should I blame? Ye do your best; ye give
What ye can give; and still my heart goes free—
Gay thing! it makes the world in which I live,
And it is bright, too bright a world for me.
V
One thing is wanting to me, one bright thing,
The which being absent I am poor indeed;—
It is my Mother's life, to be a spring
Of a more virtuous gladness which I need.
VI
One thing is wanting in the beamy cup
Of my glad life, one thing to be poured in:
Aye, and one thing is wanting to fill up
The measure of proud joy, and make it sin.
VII
Through all my life have I been saved by this,
This one thing wanting; it hath been the thorn
Which kept me calm when I had plucked a bliss
From some sweet branch,—one leaf was ever torn.
VIII
I have been happy, and am happy now,
Yet do I crave the most when happiest;
For the cold sense of my one want doth grow
In the proportion wherein I am blest.
IX
At the dread Altar, when I might lose sight
Of my unworthiness amid the stir
Of high and swelling thoughts, it is a blight
To pride, that I can be no priest to her.
X
In the rare moods when I have given birth
To songs her memory would have loved to treasure,
That she is absent mars the rising mirth,
Timing my heart to this life's sober measure.
XI
When I have walked half giddy on the ledge
To which men's praise, like tempters, souls will bear,
The want, the single want, hath been the wedge,
Cleaving my soul for Heaven to enter there.
XII
Thus in still nights, in every loneliest haunt
Thou, sainted Mother! thou hast rescued me:
Daily the Cross hath saved me by a want,
And that one want hath been the want of thee.
