Poem by James Russell Lowell

* * *

  Much I had mused of Love, and in my soul
  There was one chamber where I dared not look,
  So much its dark and dreary voidness shook
  My spirit, feeling that I was not whole:
  All my deep longings flowed toward one goal
  For long, long years, but were not answerèd,
  Till Hope was drooping, Faith well-nigh stone-dead,
  And I was still a blind, earth-delving mole;
  Yet did I know that God was wise and good,
  And would fulfil my being late or soon;
  Nor was such thought in vain, for, seeing thee,
  Great Love rose up, as, o'er a black pine wood,
  Round, bright, and clear, upstarteth the full moon,
  Filling my soul with glory utterly.

1. To the Dark, Narrow House Where Loved Ones Go
2. I Fain Would Give to Thee the Loveliest Things
3. Poet! Who Sittest in Thy Pleasant Room
4. “No More But So?”
5. Sayest Thou, Most Beautiful, That Thou Wilt Wear

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