Page:Poems Denver.djvu/214

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208
GIVE ME THY HEART.
When all things wear for thee a look of love,
And thou hast faith and confidence in all,—
Hear'st thou not then, as from the world above
Unto thy heart a strange, mysterious call,
A voice within thy soul which speaketh ever,
Whose tones are silent in thy bosom never?—
"Give me thy heart."

Give in thy early spring-time I ere the rust
Of earth hath soiled thy young soul's purity,
And laid its brightest blossom in the dust,
The glorious hope of immortality;
Give! and thy strength shall fail not, and thy soul
Shall shrink not from the storms that hover o'er;
Shall stem the breakers that around thee roll,
And land in safety on the promised shore;
Where thou may's t worship at His feet forever,
Whose voice is whispering in thy bosom ever,
"Give me thy heart!"