love has talk’d with rocks and trees;
He finds on misty mountain-ground
His own vast shadow glory-crown’d;
sees himself in all he sees.
partners of a married life–
I look’d on these and thought of thee
In vastness and in mystery,
of my spirit as of a wife.
two–they dwelt with eye on eye,
Their hearts of old have beat in tune,
Their meetings made December June,
every parting was to die.
love has never past away;
The days she never can forget
Are earnest that he loves her yet,
the faithless people say.
life is lone, he sits apart,
He loves her yet, she will not weep,
Tho’ rapt in matters dark and deep
seems to slight her simple heart.
thrids the labyrinth of the mind,
He reads the secret of the star,
He seems so near and yet so far,
looks so cold: she thinks him kind.
keeps the gift of years before,
A wither’d violet is her bliss:
She knows not what his greatness is,
that, for all, she loves him more.
him she plays, to him she sings
Of early faith and plighted vows;
She knows but matters of the house,
he, he knows a thousand things.
faith is fixt and cannot move,
She darkly feels him great and wise,
She dwells on him with faithful eyes,
cannot understand: I love.’