Here s ivy !--take them, as I used to do

To the white throne of God, I turned at last,

I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

With my lost saints,--I love thee with the breath,

To hearken what I said between my tears, . . .

By natural ills, received the comfort fast,

I love thee to the level of everydays

And tell thy soul their roots are left in mine.

Then gathered, smell still. Mussulmans and Giaours

And write me new my futures epigraph,

Will turn the thing called love, aside to hate

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

Love that end９9lｉｂ•ｎeｔures, from Life that disappears !

Oh, yes ! they love through all this world of ours !

I thank all who have loved me in their hearts,

Gave out green leaves with morning dews impearled.

And wait thy weeding; yet heres eglantine,

The word by his appealing look upcast

In my old griefs, and with my childhoods faith.

Throw kerchiefs at a smile, and have no ruth

To angels in thy soul ! Then I, long tried

In this close room, nor m99lib.netissed the sun and showers.

For any weeping. Polyphemes white tooth

New angel mine, unhoped for in the world !

Who paused a little near the prison-wall

I love thee with the passion put to use

Instruct thine eyes to keep their colors true,

But thou, who, in my voices sink and fall

Leave here the pages with long musing curled,

A lover, my Beloved ! thou canst wait

Through sorrow and sickness, to bring souls to touch,

Beloved, thou hast brought me many flowers

While budding, at thy sight, my pilgrims staff

For the ends of99lib.net Being and ideal Grace.

And which on warm and cold days I withdrew

When the sob took it, thy divinest Arts

And think it soon when others cry Too late.

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

Smiles, tears, of all my life !--and, if God choose,

So, in the like name of that love of ours,

That they should lend it utterance, and salute

From my hearts ground. Indeed, those beds and bowers

I seek no copy now of lifes first half:

Plucked in the garden, all the summer through

And there, instead, saw thee,

九九藏书网

not unallied

How do I love thee ? Let me count the ways.

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

And winter, and it seemed as if they grew

Be overgrown with bitter weeds and rue,

My souls full meaning into future years,

To hear my music in its louder parts

Or else to oblivion. But thou art not such

And since, not so long back but that the flowers

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

Slips on the nut if, after frequent showers,

Ere they went onward, each one to the marts

Or temples occupation, beyond call.

My future will not copy fair my pashtｔp://ｗww•9９ｌｉb.nett--

Own instrument didst drop down at thy foot

Take back these thoughts which here unfolded too,

Thy fowers, and keep them where they shall not pine.

Instruct me how to thank thee ! Oh, to shoot

I shall but love thee better after death.

I will not gainsay love, called love forsooth.

I wrote that once; and thinking at my side

With thanks and love from mine. Deep thanks to all

The shell is over-smooth,--and not so much

I have heard love talked in my early youth,

My ministering life-angel justified