James Russell Lowell

To ----

  Deem it no Sodom-fruit of vanity,
  Or fickle fantasy of unripe youth
  Which ever takes the fairest shows for truth,
  That I should wish my verse beloved of thee;
  'Tis love's deep thirst which may not quenchèd be.
  There is a gulf of longing and unrest,
  A wild love-craving not to be represt,
  Whereto, in all our hearts, as to the sea,
  The streams of feeling do forever flow.
  Therefore it is that thy well-meted praise
  Falleth so shower-like and fresh on me,
  Filling those springs which else had sunk full low,
  Lost in the dreary desert-sands of woe,
  Or parched by passion's fierce and withering blaze.