Once, I remember, when we were at home
I had come into church, and waited late,
Ere lastly kneeling to communicate
Alone : and thinking that you would not come. ...
Why do I love?
Is it for men to choose
The hour of the hushed night when crowned with dews
From its sea grave the morning star shall wake?
Lo, while we drowsed, it rose on our heart's ache,
And all our heaven was red with the day's hues,
And glad birds chaunted from the trees above.
So was it with my heart that might not choose
... Read complete poem
