TO C. W. A., OF TAYLORSVILLE.
139
Till I have blent a haunting thought of thee
With the deep spirit of that sacred hour.
And, in thy lofty inspiration, thou
So oft hast pictured visions that have lived,
And breathed, and glowed, and brightened in my heart,
That I have named thee, in excess of love,
My spirit's own interpreter.
With the deep spirit of that sacred hour.
And, in thy lofty inspiration, thou
So oft hast pictured visions that have lived,
And breathed, and glowed, and brightened in my heart,
That I have named thee, in excess of love,
My spirit's own interpreter.
Inspired
And gifted poet, thou hast said the griefs
That shade my young and lonely life should wake
A sympathy within thy noble heart.
Oh for that sympathy! My spirit yearns
To see and bless thee for thy kindly words.
Warmly and fondly do I welcome thee,
My soul's true friend. Ah, yes, we will be friends;
Though we may never meet, the sunset blush,
The lovely vesper star, the sweet pale moon,
The flowers, the waves, the zephyr, and the dew,
And all the thousand thrilling harmonies
Of Nature's holy lyre, shall link our souls
And gifted poet, thou hast said the griefs
That shade my young and lonely life should wake
A sympathy within thy noble heart.
Oh for that sympathy! My spirit yearns
To see and bless thee for thy kindly words.
Warmly and fondly do I welcome thee,
My soul's true friend. Ah, yes, we will be friends;
Though we may never meet, the sunset blush,
The lovely vesper star, the sweet pale moon,
The flowers, the waves, the zephyr, and the dew,
And all the thousand thrilling harmonies
Of Nature's holy lyre, shall link our souls
