AS THE HEART HOPES

IT is a year dear one, since you afar

Went out beyond my yearning mortal sight— ‘ A wondrous year! perchance in many a star

You have sojourned, or basked within the light Of mightier suns; it may be you have trod

The glittering pathways of the Pleiades,

And through the Milky Way’s white mysteries Have walked at will, fire-shod.

You may have gazed in the immortal eyes Of prophets and of martyrs; talked with seers Learned in all the lore of Paradise, The infinite wisdom of eternal years; To you the Sons of Morning may have sung, The impassioned strophes of their matin hymn, For you the choirs of the seraphim Their harpings wild out-flung.

But still I think at eve you come to me For old, delightsomevspeech of eye and lip,

Deeming our mutual converse thus to be Fairer than archangelic comradeship;

Dearer our close communings fondly given Than all the rainbow dreams a spirit knows, Sweeter my gathered violets than the rose

Upon the hills of heaven.